Dies Irae
by MufuMufuSan
Summary: The last thing Harry wanted to do was cause trouble in a world where gods and fate existed. If only it was that simple. MOD!Harry, Phoenix!Harry, gen.
1. Prologue

**Dies Irae**

_Prologue_

_This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. If ya' see a mistake, please help a guy out an me. Thank ya!_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP, PJO, or any of its wonderful characters.

**Warnings:** Rushed writing. Some angsty themes. MOD!Harry. Phoenix!Harry. _Very_ loose canon.

**A/N:** I tried many times in the past to create a crossover between Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, but nothing ever really stuck. I never felt that inspired with it. But then, I've recently been listening to the PJO and Hadestown musicals on repeat for a while and decided to hell with it, why not?

This doesn't really aim to do anything, other than buckling up and enjoying the ride. Wherever it might go, lmao.

So, with that, I hope you enjoy!

**[Edited 11/8/19. Thank you** **hachinonana**! **:']**

* * *

_**Dies Irae**_ [Day of Wrath]; a Latin hymn that serves a motif of death in musical compositions.

* * *

Hades was angry.

Harry watched bemused from his spot in Hades' throne room in the Underworld, a little comfy couch he conjured up the first few days being there. Hades was pacing a trench into the floor, shadows growing and clawing from his feet as he angrily hissed ancient Greek under his breath. It was an amusing and slightly unnerving scene to witness, and Harry glanced at Persephone in order to gauge if he should be worried or not.

Persephone was idly reading a springtime magazine, flipping through the laminated pages with minute interest.

A loud snarl reverberated the room, as Hades' frustration finally crested and he flickered with godly power. It only lasted for a moment before he calmed himself down again, and stormed the floor with even more tension than before.

To be fair—Harry settled back into his seat. It didn't take a lot for Hades to become angry.

Perhaps it was because of the recent meeting he went to, the one in Olympus. It was the winter solstice, and Hades had seemed reluctant to go meet with the other gods and goddesses. After a few days, he came back hissing and spitting, much to Persephone's and Harry's bemusement.

Speaking of which, both the goddess and Harry met eyes. There was a moment of tension between them before Persephone heaved a slight sigh and put aside her magazine, smoothing her chiton down as she gazed at her husband.

"Hades, my dear, what seems to be the matter?" Persephone inquired, gentle and cautious as one should be when dealing with an angry Hades. Hades didn't seem to acknowledge her as he continued his angry pacing and muttering under his breath, which caused Persephone to give an annoyed huff. "_Hades_," she tried again.

"What." Hades gritted out, stopping to give her a wild, almost feral, stare. Persephone was unphased.

"You've been in a bad mood ever since you came back," Persephone stated. "Young Harry and I would simply like to know why." At the mention of Harry, Hades' attention snapped to him; Harry raised his hands defensively, smiling wanly.

"And to help, if we are able," Harry finished, because Persephone pointedly did not say that. Hades' intense glare didn't falter, as he continued to stare for a moment more—as if gauging Harry's sincerity. At last, he let out a low grunt and glanced away, resuming to pace at a much more sedated speed than before.

"My symbol of power was stolen," Hades revealed, blunt and oh so _angry_. His voice was quiet, though it carried so much intensity that it still somehow reverberated in Harry's head. "It was stolen during the Winter Solstice Council, around the same time my _brother's_," he spat the word," was stolen."

It took a few seconds for the information to process, and Harry blinked. Woah, woah, woah—Hade's Helm of Darkness was _stolen_? He knew about Zeus's Lightning Bolt, considering Persephone liked to gossip to him at times, but Hades' symbol of power was stolen too?

"Oh no," Persephone gasped, hand covering her mouth. Despite her minute interest earlier, she appeared wholly concerned now. Harry could understand, because one does not simply do that to gods. Especially _Olympian _gods.

"Do they know?" Harry questioned, causing Hades to send him a sour look.

"They will not help me. So no, they do not know," Hades said nastily, anger seemingly to churn the shadows growing around him. Despite not really being afraid, Harry still felt a tremble run under his skin, clawing at his throat, the more he stared at the angry god. "I shall take care of this myself."

Persephone frowned. "Is that really wise?"

"Do you doubt my judgement?" Hades gritted his teeth, causing Persephone to recoil and quiet. Harry watched warily. "I can, and _will_, handle this situation myself. My furies have already been sent out, along with various others, to help search for it, and the culprit." Harry hummed, flopping back onto his couch and wondering why someone would steal Hades' Helm, especially alongside Zeus's thunderbolt.

For power? Stupidity? Greed? _Stupidity_?

Harry was surprised when he found himself in this world, a world where gods and goddesses existed. Especially _Greek _gods and goddesses, where a lot of Greek myths with a bunch of tragic and ironic morals existed—if there was one running theme Harry noted, it was that one doesn't piss off the gods and goddesses because they were _petty_.

And this seemed like a great way to piss off two of the most powerful gods.

"I can help too, if you want," Harry offered, picking at a random thread on his shirt. Hades narrowed his eyes at him, causing Harry to offer him a slight smile. "What are friends for?" His smile widened when Hades' expression soured even more; it shouldn't have been as amusing as it was.

"We're not _friends_," Hades snapped.

"You're right," Harry replied gravely. He gave a shit-eating smirk afterwards. "We're _besties_."

With a snarl of anger, Hades shot a bolt of darkness towards him. Harry laughed, even as he threw himself back in a fiery apparition, and his couch was swallowed up and destroyed by impenetrable shadows. Harry appeared beside Hades, who was breathing heavily and staring at the place where Harry's couch once stood.

Taking pity on the god, Harry tried to put as much sincerity as he could into his next words. "I tease, lord Hades, but I do mean it—I am willing to help," he said, causing Hades to turn towards him with a furrow in between his brows. It was lucky that both Hades and Persephone were mortal height nowadays, for some reason—Harry liked to think it was to make it easier to communicate with him, because he couldn't change size like they could.

Emphasis on _couldn't_, as opposed to their opinions on him just choosing not to.

While they didn't know exactly what he was, they did know he was an immortal being. Appearing out of ash and fire, alongside being in his animagus form, had left quite the impression on them. As it was, they were basing his powers and abilities off of their own, and seeing as of that they could change size and height—well, Harry was sad to admit that he had no such abilities.

Not that he would tell them—it would open up a topic of what he _could_ do, then, and that wasn't something Harry was willing to spill about anytime soon.

"Do you even know how to traverse the mortal world?" Persephone mused, as she picked up her magazine yet again. She played with the corner of it, as she observed him. "You appeared so recently, and have yet to leave the Underworld in that time." If Harry was feeling optimistic, he'd say she was worried. Then again, they also didn't really know how _old_ he was as well; in their eyes, he was probably only a few months compared to their thousands.

That is, if they assumed that he was born right then and there. That's a thing with the gods, apparently—Harry heard that gods and goddesses were born knowing what they wanted, could take on the form of a grown adult right away if they so wished. So, it wasn't improbable to think that _that_ was their assumption, no matter how absurd it was to Harry.

Because, for all he cared, Harry was _far_ older than he ever wished to be.

"How hard could it be?" Harry replied with a shrug, shaking off his bitter thoughts. He sauntered back over to where his previous couch was, and conjured up a new one from an old penny he had in his back pocket. With a satisfied sigh, he dropped back into it. "I mean, it's not like they'll see anything they don't wanna see."

People could be oblivious, and would most likely justify _their_ own perceptions of the world than automatically assume Harry was anything different than them. Harry _wasn't_ different them, he was… human, human as his forced title would allow.

What a depressing thought.

"The Mist shall help obscure you from the mortals sight, but other beings will not be so blind," Persephone advised, still critical. Harry gave her an indulgent and wide smile, not the least bit worried. It wasn't like he could _die_, and he simply didn't care enough about himself to be worried about what others could do to him.

"As it appears, I'm the least of people's concerns," Harry waved a flippant hand, dragging his attention back to Hades. Hades had stopped pacing, staring at him with a contemplative look. "Who will care for one little bird?"

Bird—no matter if it was a phoenix.

Persephone let out a little scoff. "A phoenix, not just a mere _bird_. A phoenix, a creature that hasn't been around for thousands of years." She bit her lip, obvious displeased. Her eyes shifted forward and back, before settling on him. "Your sudden appearance now, it must only mean," she cut off herself off, pressing her eyes closed.

Harry was almost tempted to roll his eyes. Gods, and their dramatics—he knew what a phoenix symbolized, rebirth. And in a time of turmoil, his sudden appearance had to be an omen for something. Harry didn't really care much for it, considering he was a _human_ first before he was a phoenix.

An odd human, an unfortunate one at that, but human nonetheless.

"Enough," Hades declared, decisive. His eyes were hard and on Harry, who cocked his head slightly. The god looked very shrewd. "If you want to help so much, I don't deny you this." Harry perked up slightly, even as Hades leaned forward threateningly. "But _don't_ dare disappoint me with this, young Harry."

The same looming and ominous power that seemed to radiate from the god seemed to seep the room, blanketing over Harry as a threat. Hardly feeling threatened, Harry gave the god a slight smile and a lazy salute.

"Yessir."

-0-0-0-

The mortal world was modern and familiar.

It gave Harry a headache.

It felt familiar and yet not to the wizard. The magical world wasn't exactly up to date with the latest architecture when he was still there, but the rest of civilization was. This world seemed to be around the same advancements, with its sprawling cities and electricity powered infrastructures. There was also the feeling of something _more_ lurking in the air, something along the lines of magic, it seemed to be almost alive in how things interacted and appeared.

But it wasn't magic.

It was gods, and their presence in the world.

It was like someone smudged his old glasses and placed them on his head, leaving Harry incredibly frustrated and confused. The world and the people were familiar, but they weren't _right_. The world didn't feel _right_ to him. And Harry knew it, because it wasn't his, the one where he lived out the first half of his life as the boy-who-lived and everything that came after.

The phoenix in him soothed an upcoming anxiety rush, flooding his limbs with warmth and an unspoken song. Harry took a deep breath and melted into the crowd as he flared out his senses, hoping to get a feel for the world before he really began to look for Hades' Helm.

But perhaps a hot chocolate before that would be good.

(Chocolate was good for soothing hurt.)

-0-0-0-

They had found a lead, from one of Hades' furies.

A kid named Percy Jackson, and the moment his description was delivered, Hades _lost _it. Harry had to flash out of the room in a panic, Persephone following immediately afterwards. Both of them stood stock-still in the hall as they listened to Hades roar and shout in anger, the whole underworld seemingly about to crumble in on itself due to it.

Harry let out an impressed whistle. "Man, he is _shook_."

"Harry," Persephone insisted, giving him a wide-eyed look. Harry paused at that, unsure, because Persephone never looked so panicked. As a goddess, she rarely had to panic much, especially because she was Hades' spouse and queen.

If anything really made her upset, it would make Hades upset.

(No one really wanted to deal with an upset Hades.)

"What?" Harry blinked, as Persephone began to pace anxiously. Both of them startled at the sound of something crashing inside the throne room, before they glanced at each other again. "Is something the matter with this Jackson kid? I'd figure you guys would be thrilled to find the culprit."

Never mind that it was a _kid_, but that was another story. Harry figured if they knew what they were doing, they were prepared for the consequences.

"It's not only that, but from what I gather," Persephone worried her lower lip, smoothing her chiton down. "It could be the son of the sea." Her words were soft, even Harry had to strain to hear it. "_Harry_," she urged, as if hoping for the young wizard to grasp the meaning behind it.

Harry didn't. He was very confused.

"There is a prophecy concerning the children of the big three," Persephone finally gave in with a cry, throwing her hands up in frustration. Harry blinked again at her. "That one of their children alone will decide the entire fate of Olympus. This is _horrible_—"

The throne doors were thrown open then, to reveal a seething Hades.

"He broke his oath. First _Zeus_, now _him_? My brothers are _pathetic_," Hades snarled, seemingly to vent his frustrations at them. Persephone murmured a hasty agreement, even as Harry shrugged. Hades spat out more insults in Ancient Greek, which were quite colorful considering the slight widening of Persephone's eyes and faint blush of ichor on her ears.

Harry mused over the meaning of it all.

A prophecy…?

What an ugly word, he decided. He hated them with a passion, because prophecies usually didn't always come true. One man in his old lifetime were particularly fond of them, however, orchestrating one to life just for sliver of a chance at defeating Voldemort.

But he didn't know about this world, with their prophecies. With their _Fates_, who seemingly intertwined the fabric of this universe in their very knitting needles. (Knitting needles! Harry laughed himself silly when Hades recounted that to him, much to the god's annoyance.)

Apparently, this Percy Jackson kid was the son of Poseidon. One of the big three, and seemingly already chose the path he was going on. Harry hummed, watching the god and goddess he was in company of prattle on and on in Ancient Greek. Persephone was attempting to comfort the god of the underworld, barely managing it by the looks of Hades' curled fists and flickering form.

From what Harry gathered, Zeus already had a kid before this one. One they didn't really seemed concerned about, which must mean that they were probably 'dealt' with and thus, not a concern. Harry tried not to think of the implications of that much, beyond realizing that they were very much trying to prevent this prophecy coming into play.

Wasn't that a common theme in Greek tragedies?

The hero tries to prevent his fate, like Oedipus, only making it come into play by doing so. Harry couldn't help but internally scoff in disbelief; he figured that they would have learned something from the past, but it doesn't appear so.

"Harry," Hades' voice brought Harry out of his musings, making him straighten from his slouch against the corridor wall to peer curiously at the god. He didn't seem any more calm, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, an edge to his rough voice. "Go watch over the sea brat's mother."

Sea brat? Harry tilted his head. "His mother? Why?"

Hades huffed, already turning from him to stalk down the corridor. Persephone had left just moments ago, rushing towards the gardens in order to find a soothing type of flower to make tea with. "As a precaution. It appears that he loves his mother very much, and if he won't give me my helm willingly, then," he paused, even as Harry felt dread pool in his stomach.

Hades cast him a listless glance from over his shoulder.

"Then, I guess we'll just have to make him then."

Harry blanched, though Hades didn't see. Harry was left standing alone in the corridor, torn and slightly bitter. He was reminded once again that these were gods, and gods hardly held much compassion for anything when they were angry.

Ah. What a mess.

-0-0-0-

Harry wondered if the kid knew.

If he loved his mother so much, you would think he wouldn't be willing to put her in such danger for stealing godly weapons left and right. Harry decided to drop by Yancy Academy for a quick investigation, carefully avoiding the placed fury there and just _observing_.

His conclusion wasn't satisfying:

Percy Jackson had no _idea_.

What a _mess_.

-0-0-0-

Harry was pretty lax about a lot of things nowadays. It came with the territory of world hopping, of living far longer than he had ever expected. It came with every bitter breath and roiled deep under his skin, an annoying itch that Harry couldn't scratch.

But the one thing Harry was never careless about was injustice.

Punishing a kid, who was by all rights _innocent_, didn't sit right with him.

(His hero-complex was fucking annoying.)

It would take some moving behind the scenes, careful thinking, and some effort and faith on his part, but Harry figured he could help as much as he could. While he hardly ever hoped to _stop_ something that was very much in motion from happening, he could at least help lessen the impact. Help the kid shoulder the storm that was about to hit him, because he was still just a kid who didn't know what was going on.

Maybe even…

Maybe be the kind of person Harry needed when he was younger.

-0-0-0-

He wasn't projecting. He _wasn't_.

-0-0-0-

First things first: the mother.

Sally Jackson was a lovely woman, from what Harry observed. He was predisposed to think highly of her, because she was the woman who managed to make Poseidon break an _oath_. Made him fall for her, enough to risk the ire of his brothers and the prophecy, _willing_ to risk it to have a child with her. She had to be amazing, right?

Harry thought she was a bit plain, but lovely. Normal, loving towards her son from how often they sent each other letters. Maybe perhaps wistful, with how she often took detours to and from work to stare out at sea.

Like Percy, she didn't know what was happening with the gods. With the Lightning Bolt, and Hades' Helm. At the very least, she didn't know _much_, the full extent of it. There was a paranoid line of tension in her shoulder at the storm that seemingly hung over Manhattan permanently, every angry gust of wind; her eyes flickered to the sky often enough with worry tugging at her mouth.

She was right to be worried.

Harry decided to bite the bullet and talk with her.

If he wanted to help, they needed to be aware that he was willing to help. Otherwise, they could possibly reject it without knowing that Harry meant no harm. At the very least, help them as much as he was able.

Sally had just gotten off of work, and Harry had followed her. He cast silent charms here and there, thinning out the people around them until they were alone in a subway stairwell. She seemed to know he was there, because she had whirled on him the moment they were alone with wide-eyes and slightly bared teeth.

"Who are you, and why are you following me?"

Harry gave her a guileless smile, even as he silently cast yet another charm. This time, a notice-me-not charm on the stairwell. It should give them enough privacy for them to speak.

"My name is Harry," Harry greeted, pulling out a chocolate bar he had taken from her work. Sally eyed him suspiciously. He began to pull off the wrapper. Sally gritted her teeth, adjusting her grip on her bag and sighing.

"Okay," she hedged. "Now, what do you want?"

"It's about your son." Harry stated as cautiously as he could, taking a bite out of his chocolate bar with a clean _snap_. Sally stiffened, her head snapping towards him with wide eyes. He gave her an assuring smile, pushing as much warmth into it as he could. "It isn't threatening or anything, but…curious."

"There is nothing to be curious about," Sally bit out, coldly. "He is my son, and no one else's."

"I just want to know if he knows or not," Harry sighed. "Because there is a war brewing, and people are already looking at him because they believe he is the cause. The more honestly you can answer me, the faster I can try and persuade one of the forces to lay off of him."

Sally's expression was cold and impassive as she surveyed him, mouth pressed into a thin, tight line. Harry sighed again, giving her a wan smile—this somehow made her waver a bit, expression crumpling just a little.

"No," she managed to rasp out, tightly coiled despair lingering underneath her words. "Please, I can't—no." Sally shook her head, biting her lip and glancing away from him. Her eyes were suspiciously starting to get wet, and Harry felt something sympathetic stir in his chest.

A mother wants to protect her child, by any means necessary. Harry understood that, he really did—he, of all people, could understand that. Even now, he could still hear the remnants of his own mother's pleas and begs to let him live in quiet moments, things that will forever haunt and subtly soothe him.

Still.

"We both know prolonging the inevitable isn't going to help him," Harry said sternly, making Sally wince. He softened his voice. "I'm not saying that you're wrong for wanting to do so, but things are beyond our control. I'm trying to help." Sally stared at him, devastated.

"He doesn't know," she finally admitted, though it seemed to break her heart even more saying it. Sally shuddered and staggered a bit, pressing herself against the stairway wall for support. She covered her mouth and heaved a few breaths, blinking rapidly. "What's happening?"

Harry glanced away, up towards the ceiling. "Someone stole two of the big three's symbols of power. It wasn't his father," he said ambiguously, doing his best to not invoke both of the gods' names. Sally took a moment to process this, before her eyes widened.

"Do they think _Percy_ did this?" Sally sounded mortified. "He—no. No! He doesn't know! He's innocent. I swear to gods, he's innocent," she snarled, fists curling at her sides. Harry shot her a look, making her quiet a bit, staring balefully at the ground. She sniffed. "He's only 12," she admitted, voice breaking a bit.

He's just a kid.

Harry really felt for the kid, and for his mom. It reminded him so much of his childhood, it almost ached. "I'll do my best to help," he resolved, making Sally glance at him. Disbelief and slightly hopeful, and he responded with a wan smile. "No one deserves the wrath of the gods, especially if they're a kid. And especially if they're innocent." Sally gave him a bleak smile.

"Who are you, even?" Sally ventured to ask, after a few moments of tense silence. There was still a raw ache in her voice, as she clutched her hands in front of her in self-comfort. "Are you a god?"

"I am not," Harry denied. He gave a slight shrug. "I'm not a god, but I'm not a mortal either." Sally eyed him warily, making him smile at her. "But I'm willing to help, is that not enough?" Sally gave a bitter laugh at this, shaking her head helplessly.

"Gods," Sally sighed, rubbing at her face tiredly. Both of them pointedly ignored her suspiciously wet eyes, and the slight tremble that ran through her body. "Percy," she murmured, voice full of regret and adoration, despair cottoned in the name. "He doesn't—I still don't want him to know."

At this, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think he deserves to?"

Sally had nothing to say to this.

Because, Percy will find out one day. It was in his blood, in this weird prophecy—Harry knew that while he was bitter at his own upbringing, at Dumbledore's careful molding before he was even born, it was better than not to be prepared. Especially if you didn't have a say in it, and the best you could do was to gear up and hope for the best—yes, Percy would no doubt appreciate it if he found out the truth sooner rather than later.

Especially if he could find a home in Camp Halfblood. Hogwarts was still Harry's home, in the friendships and the memories he made there—it helped soothe the ache of it all.

"I'll walk you home," Harry offered, lessening the charm around the stairwell that prevented others from coming through. Sally numbly nodded, eyes firmly on the ground. It was silent as they walked up, the icy frost slick underneath their feet.

Observing her profile, her slow and muffled steps—Harry narrowed his eyes slightly at the slight bruising peaking from her scarf, on her neck. A flare of righteous anger and disgust curled tightly in his gut, but he reigned it back with a slow inhale and exhale. Seeing her shiver, Harry cast a silent warming charm on her, making her blink.

"Did you-?" Sally seemed shaken out of her daze, peering curiously at him.

Harry gave her a slight grin. "You seemed cold." Sally nodded slowly at this, averting her gaze—she also seemed uncomfortable. Harry rubbed at his nose nervously. "Also," Harry reached forward, ignoring her stiffening, and trailed his fingers along her neck.

With a bit of push and pull of his magic, the faint phoenix song that always hummed under his skin rising a bit—Sally recoiled, slapping a hand to her neck and stammering a bit. Harry just grinned, licks of phoenix fire lilting from his finger to wisp away in the brisk winter breeze.

"W-what?" Sally breathed.

"I healed you," Harry explained, tilting his head slightly. He softened his expression then at her disbelieving expression, an wan smile playing on his lips. "I'm not only here to help Percy, ya' know?" If he was here, he'll help whoever he wants to help.

And he couldn't really help it—his hero complex still lurked in his shadows, in his bones, coming up to strangle him at the oddest times. Plus, a mother struggling to protect her son—it was more than admirable, reminding Harry of his own mother.

Sally's eyebrows furrowed, expression scrunched up. "Thanks," she bit out, still a bit shaken. "I—, thanks," she muttered, keeping her gaze firmly away from him. Harry shrugged, glancing upwards at the dark winter sky above them and the muted crowd surrounding them. "You are all the same," Sally finally seemed to find the words.

Harry cocked his head to the side, curiously.

He knew she'd be mad, rightfully so—he did just invade her privacy, healed her of her abuse that she didn't want anyone knowing about, without asking. Still, if no harm was done, Harry didn't see the problem in it—he had always lived by the rule that it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all.

At Harry's bemused look, Sally shook her head helplessly. "Just butting into other people's problems," she explained, before blanching slightly. She flushed. "Not that I'm ungrateful! It's just—you didn't need to do it," _I didn't want you to_, was the underlying message. Her voice was beyond tired, but still carried an edge to it.

It was obvious she didn't want Harry to be angry with her.

To be fair—Harry thought back to Hades, in his dark ominous fury that shook the underworld. He thought of all the stories he remembered about Greek mythology. Sally was justified to be worried about angering anyone she thought to be a part of the Greek pantheon.

Harry obviously wasn't one of them, but she didn't know that.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, making Sally stop in her tracks and blink at him. Harry gave her a slight smile. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He did mean to heal her, though—Sally swallowed, giving him a slight nod. "Why stay with him, though?"

"Who? Gabe?" Sally let out a bitter chuckle. "He—he helps protect Percy."

Harry wrinkled his nose. That drunk bastard? With the drinking, the gambling, the overall sense of disgusting greed on the man—Harry swore he could just _smell_ it kilometers awa- oh. Harry hummed in understanding. No doubt, his smell would cover up any godly scent Percy emitted.

Once again, Harry felt a pang of sympathy.

The things mothers go through just to protect their children. The rest of the walk was silent, a slow but steady shuffle of their feet over the icy sidewalk. People walked past them, unknowing and uncaring—Harry always liked cities, despite being horrendously crowded and noisy. He was just another faceless being in the crowd, a place he could just melt in the background and not be bothered.

When they stopped in front of her apartment block, Harry hesitated. At last, he conjured up one of his phoenix feathers. With a slight murmur, he presented it to a confused Sally. She eyed it warily, taking it between the pinch of her index finger and thumb.

"Thank you?" Sally raised her eyebrows.

Harry grinned. "Keep it on you, and it shall protect you. If you need any help from me, whether it be from others or monsters—just call upon it, and I shall be summoned." Sally's eyes widened, and her hand fisted over the soft feather. "Though, if you want to call for a chat or something, I won't mind either," he continued with a boneless shrug.

"Thank you," Sally repeated, more sincerely. "_Thank you_."

Harry waved her off, and watched as she darted inside the apartments. He stood there in silence for a moment, feeling the light snow settle upon him. A restless yet content feeling lingered with him, and he couldn't help but laugh a bit helplessly.

He had a feeling that he wouldn't be seeing her without her son.

With her son, _and_ the trouble that came along with it.

-0-0-0-

Harry had a sixth sense for these types of things.

Because _he_ was once the one tossed into improbable situations. It was eerie to see himself in Percy, a scruffy kid who had no idea what was happening, or what might happen. A prophecy hung like a damp and heavy blanket over his head, threatening to suffocate him, and he _didn't even know_.

Gods and other forces have been talking of killing him.

For something he had no idea about. No control.

Harry peered at Percy as he trudged along the campus of the school he was currently attending. Apparently, this was one of his newer ones, having been kicked out of all his previous ones. He was perched in a tree, with a little notice-me-not charm obscuring him from view.

A couple of Percy's classmates bypassed him, obviously giving him a side-look and laughing. Percy shot them an affronted glare, jaw clenched; it took his best friend, and satyr, Grover Underwood rushing to him to keep him from starting something. Harry could only snort slightly in amusement.

A spike of killing intent made the demigod and satyr shudder, and hustle inside Yancy Academy. Harry could only roll his eyes at one of Hades' furies, Alecto. She was leaning against the tree he was perched in, sticking to him the moment he appeared for some reason.

Harry figured she might be jealous that he was trying to out-do her, for Hades' favor.

Releasing the notice-me-not charm for a brief moment, he swooped lower to her. He sang the equivalent of, _'take a chill pill!'_, at her. Alecto sneered at him, her mortal form having too many sharp teeth to be considered such.

With a flash of flames, Harry stood next to her in his regular form as well. "Have no fear, Lord Hades' best friend is here," he mocked, just to see Alecto snarl and hiss at him. He smiled. "I'm trying not to draw attention to me, but I can't really do it when you hang around like that." With a shooing motion, he tried to get her to go away. "I can't spy in peace if you bug me like this."

"I have it under control," Alecto snapped. "So you can _go_."

"Yes, yes, you have it under control, great job and all," Harry sighed, leaning against the tree as well. Alecto immediately pushed herself off of it, to get away from him. He gave her a slight pout at that, relishing in her irritated snort. "That doesn't mean I can't sit here and watch, can I?"

Alecto scoffed. "I can't really do that when you hang around like that," she mocked, throwing Harry's words back into his face. His expression dropped to deadpan, making her smile meanly. "I already have that damned centaur here to make a mess of everything. You'll just be in the way."

"Damned centaur?" Harry mused curiously. Chiron, the trainer of heroes—of course, he arrived at the beginning of the semester in light of Alecto arriving. The world around them murmured in turmoil, the gods restless, and Harry took a moment to feel the balance of the world roil just a bit under his skin.

"_Leave_." It seemed like Alecto was done humoring him, sending him a dark glower as she walked away. He heard her mutter under her breath as she did so, something akin to, "and stay away, if you know what's good for ya'."

It was hilarious.

What was she, _five_? Harry stifled his amusement by coughing, before transforming yet again into his Animagus form. With another subtle charm cast on his person (person? _Bird_son?), he flew over campus and settled on a tree near Percy's dorm window. He watched the boy collapse on his bed, Grover nervously steepling his fingers together and trying to assure him of something.

In all honesty, it felt like watching an upcoming train wreck. Harry had no right, however, to interfere with how this world worked and the people in it beyond the bare minimum (which he was doing). Especially if something like the _Fates_ were in control, who didn't take lightly to purposely altering it to avoid or prevent them.

Only mortals could change fate, and Harry? Harry, as human as he was (_wished to still be-_), was still beyond mortal comprehension. A wizard? Unheard of in this world. Master of Death? Also unheard of. If anyone were to ask Harry, he'll just tell them that he was just Harry.

And to be Harry, was to be unfortunate.

(Harry was also not _really_ a part of this world, so he had no right to interfere. If anything, he was little more than a glorified tourist, courtesy of Death.)

It seemed to be the same way with Percy. A kid with a prophecy, a kid with a mom who was willing to do _anything_ for him, a kid who didn't know what was going on. Harry couldn't help but empathize with Percy, who was currently laughing with his best friend as Grover acted out something.

Harry would take his leave for now, feeling Alecto's growing stifled anger across campus. But before that, the phoenix fire in him _yearned_, churning hotly in his core. He was always weak to his instincts in this form, and he didn't see no harm in it:

He sang a sad yet hopeful tune for Percy Jackson.

(It was quite a good melody, too; it was a shame Percy couldn't hear it.)

-0-0-0-

It was a stormy night when he was finally called.

_Help my son. Please, help my son_.

A desperate cry from a desperate mother. Harry appeared in in flames, settled in a large oak tree that served as a barrier to Camp Halfblood. Sally, Percy, and Grover were making a mad dash towards the camp. He sang an encouraging song, making them glance wildly at him. Sally's mouth parted in surprise, even as Grover gave a shocked choking sort of noise.

Percy ruined the silent awe he always accumulated in this form. "W-what is that? A chicken?"

Harry was _almost_ tempted to trip him for that. If only he wasn't so amused by it, because _seriously_? Sally shook her head, even as Grover urged them along faster. "Th-this is good! It's good! A phoenix is a sign of good omen. We- we-" The satyr was cut off by an angry roar behind them.

Harry watched as the minotaur was on its way.

The rumble from beneath the earth, and the lightning in the sky indicated that the gods were watching. Harry cast a little glance around, cooing slightly. Sally and Percy were arguing beneath the tree he was in, at the barrier.

Sally was mortal, and she could not enter.

Hades did mention using Sally as a sort of motivation for the demigod. Harry watched anxiously as the monster neared. He could—yes, he could. It would save Percy a lot of grief if he did, and it could appear that he really was taking her away from him as an act of making her a hostage.

Percy wasn't willing to save himself if he was too worried for his mom. So taking the mom out of the question seemed logical enough.

So right when the Minotaur was about to grab Sally, he apparated towards her and flooded the clearing with his flames. He urged the fire to encourage the young demigod, even as the monster reared away from the sheer _heat_. Phoenix fire burned in a way that wasn't physical, and seeing as of that the minotaur was made of myth and dust—

Harry only took in dark satisfaction as its roar of pain, even as he lulled Sally to sleep and swept her away. As the last of his fire died down, leaving nothing behind but the faint taste of smoke and ash, a murmur of a silent song humming through the world, he swear her heard Percy yell:

"_Mom_!"

-0-0-0-

It was only later that he realized that maybe, just _maybe_, he should of hinted at Percy that he was taking his mom away to safety.

Harry resolved to himself that he'll make it up to the kid later.

-0-0-0-

Harry appeared in a swirl of flames in what appeared to be an infirmary.

A soft gasp was let out at his entrance, and he instantly focused on the kid who was staring at him with barely concealed awe. A kid that was decidedly not Percy, with her blonde hair and grey eyes. No, the kid Harry was looking for was still bedridden and blinking dumbly at the world around him.

Internally rolling his eyes, Harry let out a soft croon.

The effect was immediate as the tension left the girl's shoulders, her tight grip on the bowl in her hands lessening a bit. Percy gave a slight shudder, eyes instantly snapping towards him and recognition flashing through his expression.

"F-fire," he rasped, licking his lips. His eyes were almost delirious as he stared intently at him, almost begging Harry for something. "M- mom," he finished, and Harry crooned in understanding, because _duh_. Of course the 12 year old would be asking about his mother, the mother he saw disappear in a swirl of flames right before the Minotaur got to her.

Harry _could_ project his thoughts to them, make them understand a bit better. At least, Percy because he had no idea nor did he really care about the blonde girl with them. With another soft croon, he tilted his head down and sang a slight tune, reminiscent of a lullaby he heard once. Both of the kids shuddered, while he softly touched Percy's mind with his own, _'she is safe, you need not worry.'_

Percy swallowed, a furrow between his brow. He shifted and winced, making the girl's eyes snap towards him. "Don't move," she stated instantly, the words almost forced out of her. "You'll just hurt yourself more."

"I don't know you," Percy replied, sending her a brooding look. The girl appeared unphased. "Where—where am I?" He addressed this to Harry, who tilted his head.

'_Camp Halfblood_,' Harry supplied, inwardly shrugging his shoulders. He made sure the girl could hear him too, making her gape at him with wide eyes. '_You shall be safe here. For now, you just need to rest, young Perseus._'

"My name is Percy," the young demigod huffed, exasperated. He seemed to be fading towards unconsciousness, eyelashes fluttering. Harry inwardly grinned. "And mom—you're not lying, are you?" He seemed desperate, the softly spoken words almost pleading.

Instead of answering, Harry began to sing a song to help him drift to sleep. He made sure to put a lot of comfort and sincerity in it, letting his Phoenix half take over to make everything feel _right_, a synchronous thrum of harmony. Percy was out in seconds, expression smooth and peaceful; after a few more moments, Harry stopped as he gazed at the kid.

Man, he had a storm coming for him. A storm, _and_ hell—Harry crooned sadly, resolved to help the poor kid out as much as he could. He knew what it was like to have things just _happen_ to him, without his control; it sucked. It majorly sucked.

"E-Excuse me," the words snapped Harry out of his daze, and he instantly looked at the girl. The girl swallowed under his stare, licking her lips. "You're a phoenix." Harry internally rolled his eyes, as he stared blatantly at the flushing girl in front of him, who seemingly grew more and more flustered the silence dragged on.

Right when she was about to break, Harry said, '_Really? I had no idea_.'

The girl flushed harder, sputtering slightly in annoyance. "It's just—your kind hasn't been around since ancient times," she shook her head, in disbelief. "Why now? Why—_him_?" If Harry had to say anything, he'd say her expression was almost fearful as she stared at Percy. Fearful, yet there was an underlying resolve lingering beneath it.

Hope?

'_Why anything?_' Harry asked in a way of answering, with a mirthful croon. The girl's expression twitched with thinly veiled irritation. '_It seems you already know why._' With a meaningful tilt of his head, he gestured towards Percy. '_Look after him for me, would ya'?_'

The girl opened her mouth, either to agree or to protest; Harry didn't know, because he was swallowed up by flames in his fiery apparition.

In the next instance, he was on the island he claimed for his own. An island he was sure no one else would find, because he warded it to hell and back. An island which currently housed one mother, who was sitting demurely upon its beach, staring wistfully out at the sea.

Harry transformed back into his human form, letting out a small cough that tasted like fire and ash.

"Your son is doing just fine," Harry said in a way of greeting, sitting heavily next to her. Sally didn't look away from the sea, mouth twitching up into a slight smile. "You're the first thing he asked about. Then he passed back out."

A little laugh passed through Sally like a gentle breeze. "I figured," she admitted, fingers dragging through the squishy sand beneath them. It was quiet for a moment as she stared at the sea, a contemplative gleam in her eyes. "Do you think—do you think I could talk to him?"

Him? Percy? Harry frowned, glancing between her and the sea. She knew she couldn't talk to Percy, especially after Harry mother-napped her to an island to hold her as a 'hostage' for Hades. It took forever to convince the god, but he was sure being held hostage on a getaway island was much better than being held hostage in the underworld.

It was one of the terms they agreed upon.

So no, it couldn't be Percy. Then it must be…

"I don't see why not," Harry shrugged, uncaring. Or at least, trying to appear it—he swallowed harshly, as Sally tilted her head to peer at him curiously. He fiddled with his shoelaces, firmly keeping his gaze away. While a bit nervous, he really didn't see the harm.

The rules said that gods couldn't interact with their demigod children, not the parents who raised them. Sally wasn't a demigod, just a mortal who happened to fall in love with a god.

"Are you sure?" Sally raised an eyebrow, dubious.

Harry let out a little, "Heh." He waved a hand flippantly, turning his gaze from the sea to the mother beside him. "It won't hurt anyone. And I cannot be hurt." For long, at least—even then, physical pain dulled in comparison to the raw ache immortality left him with most of the time.

Sally brightened, and Harry noted where Percy got his smile.

Without wasting a beat, she leapt up and brushed sand off her pants. Harry watched warily as she walked slowly towards the ocean, tensing despite himself. With one last lingering glance towards him, Sally walked into the water until it lapped onto her calves.

How was she going to contact him? Did gods really hear thoughts that much? Harry briefly wondered, as nothing happened for a few moments. Then everything stilled, the ocean seemingly stopped moving for a moment—it was eerie, and Harry sucked in a slight breath, goosebumps raising along his arms as everything swelled before tipping:

It was instant. One moment nothing, the next, the god of the sea was standing there.

Poseidon.

Dark messy hair, and sea green eyes— almost a spitting image of Percy. Especially the dark brooding look of annoyance, Harry noted with amusement; the god's dark look was staring straight at him, before he tore his eyes away to face Sally properly.

"Sally," the god breathed.

Sally let out a little loose laugh. "Surprise," she sounded hallow, and Harry shifted slightly, moving to stand. This resulted in Poseidon's eyes snapping back towards him, expression straining. "This is Harry—he, er, saved me."

"Saved?" Poseidon questioned, eyes narrowing.

"A bit of a loose term," Harry agreed, inching towards them. He noted with amusement that the water that had lapped at the beach didn't reach him, seemingly moving away from him. How—incredibly childish. "I saved her, but she isn't allowed to leave."

"Why?" Poseidon snapped. Sally sighed a little, making the god shift and glance at her. "Sally, is he—are you okay? I'm so sorry," he urged quietly, leaning towards her and lowering his voice. If Harry wasn't Harry, and his hearing being _astounding_ due to his Animagus form, he wouldn't have heard. "I'm so _sorry_."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Sally replied, firm. "You gave me Percy. For that, I'll be forever grateful," she continued, soothing. The god gave a humorless smile at that. Sally stared at him for a bit, before letting out a little laugh of her own. "I don't know why I called you—"

Poseidon gave a little wounded noise at that.

Sally sounded fond when she finished speaking with, "I guess I just wanted to see you again." Poseidon gave her a helpless look at that, expression incredibly soft. Harry felt awkward and uncomfortable, because _ew, PDA_.

"_Sea_ him again?" Harry offered, breaking the gross tension between the two. Poseidon gave him an annoyed look, even when Sally huffed with amusement. "The ocean _waves_ at you every day, Sally, so don't feel too neglected." The jokes were in bad taste, as well as just being generally bad. The annoyed expression darkened even more, Sally shooting him an exasperated look.

"Harry, don't be," a slight smirk appeared on her face,"_k__oi_."

A moment's pause.

Harry lost it, laughing hysterically. He clutched at his stomach as he shook with laughter, even as he heard Poseidon give an indigent noise. "_Sally_," he huffed, akin to a whine. Sally laughed, making the god sigh. "I missed you," he murmured to her, before turning his full attention to Harry. "And _you_."

"Me, me," Harry settled his amusement, still grinning slightly. He became more serious at Poseidon's even stare, straightening a bit more. His grin fell away to a wry smile, as he shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed internally. "I suppose you're wondering what's going on."

"I know what's going on." Poseidon replied. "At least, I know what's going on with one of my brothers at least. Not so much about my _other_ brother." The look in his eyes was threatening, flickering with power that mimicked the sea, its deep and guttural waves threatening to drown him.

His empty expression was daunting.

"Care to explain?"

Poseidon only knew that Zeus was after him specifically because his bolt was stolen, and had assumed that Percy had something to do with it. Zeus was paranoid, and was thinking that Hades and Poseidon were working together to conspire against him, while Hades thought that Poseidon himself was conspiring against _both_ of them. Poseidon was just caught in the middle of it all, guilty of only having a child that happened to correlate with everything going on.

He probably thought that Hades was only angry with him just for breaking the oath.

(Well, Hades _was_. But there was more substance to that anger.)

Still, that didn't justify going out of his way to take _Sally_. That was going to another level. That was _extra_. So, Poseidon was understandably confused, from what Harry gathered. At least, he hoped he assumed correctly, because gods and goddesses and their way of thinking were complex.

Thinking about it all gave Harry a headache.

_Bleh. _Politics.

"I am keeping Sally here on this island until the Lord of the Underworld's Helm is returned," Harry stated bluntly, making the god frown. A furrow appeared between his brows. Sally hummed, stepping away from Poseidon to turn towards Harry fully. Poseidon unconsciously followed as well, which was—

Well, a god in love was undoubtedly weird to witness.

"His Helm was stolen? By who?" Poseidon questioned. He then paled slightly. "Does he think it me?" Almost abruptly, he sucked in an agitated breath and looked annoyed. "Of _course_ he does, that- that," he cut himself off, shaking his head helplessly. His mood was turbulent.

"It isn't all bad," Sally soothed, making Poseidon glance at her. She gave him a slight smile, gesturing towards Harry. "Harry is on Percy's side." She gave him a look of trust, which made Harry shift uncomfortably. Poseidon gave him a scrutinizing gaze.

"Who are you? All I know is that you were working with my older brother," Poseidon spat. "Why would you help Percy?"

"Because he is innocent." The words were honest, earnest; it seemed to almost take the god aback, making Harry laugh slightly. "Is that not reason enough?" Harry shrugged, glancing around the island idly before returning his gaze back on Sally and Poseidon. "And you already know me. I'm Harry."

"Harry is a phoenix," Sally said, not quite excited but enough to make it sound giddy. Poseidon raised his eyebrows, appraising Harry in a new light. "That phoenix that night, that was him." Harry shifted again, uncomfortable and resigned. It came with having such a weird Animagus form.

But Harry was weird in general, so it tracked.

-0-0-0-

If someone told him long ago that he would be the Master of Death, and would happen to be in a world where Greek Gods existed and meddling in their affairs to help out one kid who reminded him so much of himself—

Well, he wasn't sure if he would have laughed or cried.

* * *

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

Basically this whole thing is just Harry starting to kin Percy a hella lot, haha.

I had a lot of fun writing this!

See ya'll next time! ;v

-mms


	2. Chapter 1

**Dies Irae**

_Chapter 1_

_This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. Team work makes the dream work, so if ya'll see a mistake, it'll help me a bunch if you roast me! I won't be sad, I promise! :'D _

**Warnings:** Rushed writing. Some attempt at humor. Slowish build.

**A/N:** I feel like the story is going to be set at a different pace than the prologue. The prologue served as setting the stage, while the rest of the story will be told at it's own pace, haha. I hope this doesn't put anybody off too badly. D:

Like I said before, I just kinda let my writing go, and see where it takes me. #livefreediehard

A big thanks to everyone who is enjoying this story so far! I was honestly a bit nervous about posting it, haha—my story ideas feel kinda outlandish, and I feel as if my writing is super rusty. So it was kind of a relief to see people interested! :'v

With that being said—

Enjoy!

**[Edited 11/9/19 | 1/2/20;** thank you all who helped! :'D]

* * *

To-Do List:

[ ]Check up on Percy

[ ]Figure out what to do next

[ ]Profit?

* * *

It was a few days after the infirmary visit when Harry decided to see Percy again.

It was midmorning, the dew dripping off the leaves and grass drying up due to the rising sun. He flew overhead, hearing the ominous thunder in the distant as he flew in the god of the sky's domain, but he ignored it. He was looking for something, or rather, _someone_.

It wasn't long before he spotted him.

It looked like he was making a sly run for it towards the forest surrounding the camp, ducking behind various buildings and trees as he edged his way towards it. He kept glancing around suspiciously, which Harry snorted at.

Curious, Harry crooned a slight song that caused air around him to warm, with the world responding with it's own little warming hum. Percy shudder and glance around, spotting him easily.

Percy perked up at the sight of him. "Hey, it's you!" Harry crooned, careful of his claws when Percy offered his arm for him to perch on. The demigod grunted a bit at his weight, which Harry sniffed at. Sure, he was a big bird, but he wasn't _that_ heavy.

"_Yo._" Harry crooned in greeting, making the demigod snort.

"How's my mom?" Percy questioned eagerly.

Harry considered this for a moment.

Poseidon had left the island after some time, leaving both the mortal woman and Harry alone. Poseidon had warned him that he will meet with him some other time to discuss things, in a rather ominous and vague way that left Harry a bit twitchy and amused. Sally seemed content enough, allowing Harry to properly show her around the island he had set up for her.

There was a shack on the beach, reminiscent of the one she told him about in Montauk. While not his best work, she seemed utterly charmed with its creaky floorboards and rustic wood. Harry made sure she had all her necessities met, even going out to acquire a few books for her and some other luxury items.

After all, while she was his 'prisoner', he didn't want her to suffer being bored throughout her stay.

("Think of it like a vacation!" Harry enthused, though Sally seemed despondent.

"A vacation while my son is still wanted for something he didn't do by both king of the Olympians _and_ the lord of the underworld? … _relaxing_.")

Well, when she puts it like _that_.

Harry assured her that nothing was going to happen to Percy, before apparating away to make sure of that. He figured Percy would much rather have his mom safe and enjoying herself rather than be out in the real world where monsters and gods exist, or worse, staying with that drunk abusive idiot known as Gabe.

"_Safe_," Harry replied at last, making Percy squint at him. Harry ruffled his feathers and stared evenly back, before Percy sighed and smiled slightly. "_She hopes you're enjoying yourself here._"

At this, Percy's expression soured. "Yeah, it's great," he muttered, stopping along the edge of the forest. Taking a silent cue, Harry flew off his arm and landed on a nearby branch, watching the young demigod pace a bit before sitting down heavily at the base of the tree Harry was sitting in. "It's like I'm the new kid again! Everyone is treating me like I'm a freak or something."

"_You are the new kid_," Harry told him, knowing full well he was stating the obvious. Percy gave him a slight glower.

"It's still pretty hard to believe," Percy continued as if Harry didn't say anything, running a frustrated hand through his hair. His expression was naturally moody, though there was a tension tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Gods, monsters, and mythical creatures, oh my," he huffed.

Harry chuckled inwardly. "_The world is wild and weird_," he advised. "_Isn't that exciting_?"

It wasn't for Harry, not really. It's been a long time since he's ever felt enthused by anything, a certain apathetic numbness fueling his day-to-day interactions. Though, he sometimes remembered that spark, that _flicker_, of something bright and warm in his core, of when he was a child, then he was a wizard, and he was going to _Hogwarts_.

He was _magic_.

Look at what that got him.

Hopefully, because Percy is young and doesn't really know what's going on just yet, he'll get to enjoy the last few days of obliviousness before things started to really kick into gear. Harry hoped, at least.

"Exciting? As if!" Percy sounded disbelieving. "It's because _I'm_ weird that my mom almost got—," he cut himself off there, clenching his jaw and abruptly dropping his gaze. He glared at the ground for all its worth. "My mom could have gotten hurt because of me," he stated quietly.

_Oh kid, you don't know the _half _of it_, Harry lamented silently, wincing a bit. He wondered if Percy would hate him if he knew that he was basically imprisoning his mother, despite making it as safe and enjoyable as he could. Not to mention doing it to appease one of the one's who was out for his head.

Not that he was actually doing it out of Hades' orders, not completely. He was just hoping to keep Sally out of the crossfire between Percy and the gods, while doing his best to guide Percy on his way out of this mess.

"_Perseus, listen," _Harry began, flapping his wings to get the kid's attention. Percy dragged his gaze sullenly upwards, heavy frown on his lips. "_No one is getting hurt because of you. She knew what she was doing, she doesn't blame you for it. So you shouldn't blame yourself for it either; it isn't your fault._"

After a moments pause, Harry hummed a bit of a wistful tune.

"_Even if you are kinda weird,_" at this, Percy raised his eyebrows, mildly offended. Harry continued with more amusement. "_I think your mom wouldn't have it any other way._" He tried to put as much conviction as he could in that line, because it was true.

Never underestimate the love a mother could have for her son.

(His mother's screams and begs echoed in his ears, thrumming along with his heart beat. It was a nightmare and a comforting reassurance all at once, leaving Harry feeling both incredibly loved, and so _alone_.)

Percy pondered his words for a second, finger idly tracing a pattern in the dirt. At last, he huffed and sent him a slight smile, eyes bright. "My name is _Percy_," he reminded fiercely, making Harry snort slightly. "Don't forget it, you oversized chicken."

"_Oh yes, my official title. The Order of the Oversized Chicken, coming right up_," Harry snipped back, chest aching with fond memories at his own little inside joke. Percy didn't get that part, but he laughed all the same. It made the world a bit more bearable, Harry's contentedness warming the air around him.

After his laughter settled, Percy relaxed against the tree more. His expression was light, open. "Hey, do you think you can tell me how you met my mom? She told me that she had someone who could help us, and brought this out," fishing into his pocket, Percy pulled out the phoenix feather Harry had given Sally so long ago. "Is it yours?"

"_I got it from a craft shop_," Harry replied, making Percy roll his eyes. "_Yeah, it's mine. I gave it to your mother because she seemed like she needed it._" And that was all Harry was gonna say on that matter, making a pointed effort to pick at his own feathers, straightening them out and pulling out the loose ones.

The loose ones fluttered downwards, burning up to ash and scattering before they hit the ground.

"That doesn't answer my question," Percy hummed, fiddling with the feather he had. It was a soft looking thing, the length of his palm; it was a mix of dark blood and embellished gold, shining like a lick of flame when the light hit it at a certain angle. Percy seemed enchanted by it.

"_She worked in that one candy shop. I like candy._" Harry relented a bit, hoping that would be enough. Percy's expression scrunched up in confusion, tilting his head up slightly to stare at him again.

"People just let birds in shops now? I thought there was a no pet allowed rule, or something," Percy accused. Harry huffed, giving him an irritated look. In return, Percy grinned lazily at him before continuing, "and besides, I thought mortals or whatever can't see Greek stuff."

"_Who says this is my only form_?" Harry rolled his eyes, returning to straightening out his feathers. At first, he was doing it to deter Percy, but now that he was actually _looking_ at his plumage, he was a bit dissatisfied with it.

Honestly, how people could be awed at this form when there was one too many messy feathers was beyond Harry.

Percy sat up straight at that, blinking at him. "Wait, wha—"

"Percy!" A familiar voice shouted, causing both the bird and boy to glance around. The blonde-haired girl from the infirmary was jogging up to them, and she stopped short when she caught sight of Harry. "Oh, it's you!"

"'_Tis I_," Harry replied with a croon. Percy snorted, though his gaze was on the girl. He looked a bit disgruntled at seeing her, which made Harry slightly curious. "_What do wish for Perseus?"_

"_Percy_," Percy snapped at him, without heat.

"_Percy_," Harry paused. "_Us_."

"You're impossible," Percy groaned, making Harry chuckle a bit. The girl glanced between the two of them, grey eyes incredibly sharp and calculating. At last, she strode up to Harry and stared intently at him.

She then inclined her head slightly. "I forgot to introduce myself when we first met, I'm sorry. My name is Annabeth Chase. It's an honor to meet you," she stated formally, making Harry raise his currently nonexistent eyebrows.

Wow, he thought. How uncomfortable.

Percy in particular seemed disturbed. "Why are you acting like this?" He glanced between Harry and Annabeth as if he was missing something, before squinting suspiciously at Annabeth. Annabeth sent him a look as she straightened, huffing slightly.

"Just properly introducing myself to a _phoenix_, one of the most prominent and honorary mythological creature one can meet, seaweed brain," Annabeth rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Percy's expression strained, darkening a bit.

"Well, excuse me, wise girl," he muttered, annoyed. Percy then turned towards Harry, evaluating. "You don't seem that special, honestly," he stated at last, making Annabeth smack him lightly in the arm as Harry gave the bird-equivalent of a shrug. "Ow! What? I was just telling the truth!"

"You could be insulting him!" Annabeth insisted, gesturing towards a not-really-insulted Harry. "You want a phoenix's favor, trust me. A phoenix on your side is always a sign you're doing something right," she murmured, giving an almost intense and feverish glance towards Harry.

"Something right, huh," Percy mused. He seemed quiet and contemplative for a moment before snorting a bit. "That would be a first."

"_I think you're pretty neat_," Harry offered with a croon. Percy cracked a slight smile at that, as Harry turned towards Annabeth. She was a demigod too, no doubt; he wondered who her godly parent was. "_And it's nice to be acquainted with you as well,_" he guessed, at least. "_Though it seemed you wanted Perseus for something?_"

Both Annabeth and Harry ignored Percy's annoyed groan, as Annabeth turned on him. "That's right, you were skipping out on our lesson!" She accused, jabbing a finger in his direction. Percy stiffened, raising his hands defensively.

"Hey, I got sidetracked, okay? Big bird over here wanted to talk, so we talked," Percy offered, making Harry twitch. Okay, chicken, fine—but _big bird_? Not only that, he was using him as an excuse. Percy was well on his way into the forest before Harry swooped in, he was sure.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him, disbelieving. At last, she turned towards Harry and asked, "is that true?"

For a brief _heartbreaking_ instance, it felt like he was in between Ron and Hermione again.

Percy turned a panicked and pleading gaze towards him, while Annabeth's searching and critical stare almost burned. Harry swallowed nervously in front of them, glad his form didn't convey it that well. Masking the throb in his chest, Harry raised a wing to straighten a few feathers out there carefully to stall for time.

At last, he said, "_Sure_."

Percy leapt at it. "See? He said so," he waved a flippant hand, grinning easily. Annabeth eyed Harry for a few moments, turning a judging stare at Percy. She still didn't seem like she believed either of them, but seemed willing enough to let it go. "Besides, if it's about Greek history, I'm sure he can tell me, right?"

Oh, no—"_Uh_," Harry shifted a bit on his branch, hearing it creak slightly under his weight. While he did his research on Greek mythology in his previous life, it was in passing. And he could not be sure if those myths were _true_ or not in this world, where they actually existed."_Sure._"

Annabeth narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. "You don't sound too sure about that," she stated.

_Because I'm not_, Harry thought. "_Not a thing I'm interested in_," he admitted instead. Not too terribly interested, at least; other than bugging Hades for his rundown of things for his own terrible amusement, and light curiosity. _"Besides, I haven't been here that long_."

This seemed to intrigue Annabeth, while Percy blinked in confusion. "Haven't been here that long," she murmured. "When did you appear?"

"_I've been around since last October._" Harry supplied slowly, making the girl blink. Percy laughed a bit, catching on and snickering.

"So, you're not even a year old? You're a baby!" Percy cackled, making Harry send him a glower. Annabeth's eyes widened and sent a reprimanding glare at the other demigod, poking him sternly in the arm. "Ouch," the boy recoiled from her. "Stop that!"

"I'll stop when you stop being so rude!" Annabeth hissed at him, before surveying Harry again. Harry was puffed up in indignation, though he soothed himself with the fact that Percy couldn't know that he was older than that.

No one did in this world, really.

"_I'm no baby,_" Harry still said stubbornly. Annabeth grimaced lightly. "_But it's cool, I'm cool. So what?"_ Despite the kick to his pride, the feeling of being almost infantilized by mere children, Harry didn't really mind it; not _much_.

"You appearing nowadays," Annabeth mused. "It must mean something is coming, right?" She seemed almost anxious at his answer, looking as if she already knew it. Hell, maybe she did, Harry thought. She'd give Hermione a run for her money, from the looks of it.

"_Maybe_," Harry crooned.

There was a determined glint in Annabeth's eyes at the revelation, despite the slight nervous curl of her fingers at her side. Percy scratched the back of his head, idly. "So, does this mean you don't know Greek history, or something?"

"_Or something_," Harry huffed. "_Speaking of which,_" he continued slyly. "_Education is important, Perseus. Learning from the past can greatly help your future_," he advised with a croon, making Percy frown. "_If you're skipping out on lessons, you could be missing out on some great examples of what to do, or what not to do, when the time comes for it._"

"As if something like that is going to happen to me," Percy rolled his eyes. Annabeth eyed him silently, as he scuffed his shoe against the ground. He didn't seem to be in the mood to return to wherever he and Annabeth learned their Greek history, seemingly wracking his brain for a solution.

At last, he paused and he brightened.

"Hey, do you want to meet Chiron? I'm sure he'll like to meet you," Percy offered his arm, which Harry eyed shrewdly. Turning towards Annabeth, he continued, "don't you think so too, wise girl? If he really is that important, Chiron would love to meet him!"

Annabeth hummed. "We can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to do," she stated, making her Harry's newfound favorite. But she also went on to say, "but it would be nice." Harry heaved a sigh internally, because he didn't really have a reason to say _no_.

It would also be a great way to see how Chiron is preparing for the upcoming quest that Percy was no doubt going to get, of how the trainer of heroes was treating the kid Harry forcibly attached himself to.

"_I want chocolate_," Harry demanded in return, swooping down to perch on Percy's shoulders instead of his arm. He staggered a bit underneath him, having lost his balance for a second. Once again, Harry was careful of his talons.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Percy seemed enthused. "You can get practically anything here just by thinking it. It's pretty cool." Both the young demigods started the walk towards what Harry was assumed the big house he saw earlier, and with a slight shudder, Harry cast a notice-me-not charm on the three of them.

While Harry loved some entertainment, he didn't very much like the spotlight.

Annabeth was the first notice, glancing around suspiciously before turning her gaze towards him. "What did you do?" She asked, curiously.

"I didn't do anything," Percy scoffed, making Annabeth shake her head.

"Not you, seaweed brain," she huffed. "I'm talking about him," Annabeth emphasized Harry. With a slight hum, Harry idly remembered he never really introduced himself to the two. Now, though, after hearing about how honored a phoenix was in this world, and how they haven't been one since the ancient times—

Would they be disappointed when he told them his name was just Harry?

Harry felt amused just by thinking about it. Hades and Persephone didn't really seem too phased by his introduction, which he guessed was because that the Underworld hardly had any laughter or humor of any kind there.

"_Just made them not notice us_," Harry supplied helpfully. "_Don't want to cause a scene or anything._" Percy hummed in appreciation, seemingly not having thought of that. Annabeth seemed awed.

"You can do that?"

Harry crooned as they finally neared the big house, eying it warily. He felt a source of power lingering there, something _more_, tied to the world and its existence with its constant thrum; a god? He had heard that there was a god at Camp Halfblood, but Hades didn't tell him who.

He didn't seem that fond of whoever it was.

Harry's answer to Annabeth was listless:

"_There's a lot that I can do_."

-0-0-0-

"Pets aren't allowed, Perkins."

Harry could see why Hades didn't like him.

"It's _Percy_," Percy reminded forcefully, lacking any endearment that he had with Harry. The god, Dionysus, waved him off as he observed his cards with minute interest. "And he isn't a pet!"

"Whatever," Dionysus declared carelessly. He chugged from a diet Coke can harshly, before crushing it and tossing it towards a bin behind him. It landed effortlessly, though Harry eyed the messy scrawl on the side of the bin. _Snack Bin_, what?

Chiron seemed reserved, contemplative. His eyes were trained on Harry, who tried not to shift under his stare. "This is unprecedented," the centaur admitted at last, rubbing his chin. "This is the phoenix you met at the infirmary, Annabeth?"

Annabeth nodded. "And the one who saved Percy's mother when he arrived," she added, making Percy shift uncomfortably underneath Harry. "He seems to be quite taken with him. Does that mean—"

The centaur settled her with a look, making her quiet and bit her lip. He sighed and turned a warm smile at Percy, who had eyed the interaction between the two of them. "It's quite an honor, you know, to be liked by such a majestic creature. I'm sure it speaks of a good future for you, young Percy."

_Majestic_. Harry snorted at the term, vividly remembering when he first got this form. He had never slammed into trees and walls more than he did back then; flying on his broom was easier to navigate.

They didn't need to know that, however.

"Thanks, I guess," Percy mumbled, sheepishly. After a moments thought, he reached up to seemingly pet Harry, which was—well, no. Harry refused to be treated like a pet, and plus, he just straightened out his feathers this morning for the first time in _forever_.

Flexing his talons lightly on Percy's shoulder, making the demigod pause, Harry warned, "_mess up my feathers, Perseus, and I'll mess up your fancy orange shirt._" Percy snorted, dropping his hand and didn't look that torn over the threat.

"Didn't take you for a snob, birdy," Percy teased. "And it's _Percy_."

"You can speak?" Chiron cut in abruptly, causing both the bird and boy to glance over at the centaur and god. Dionysus had sat up with interest, his bloodshot and wine-colored eyes sharp on Harry. Harry ruffled his feathers at them both, rolling his eyes slightly. "That's unheard of," the centaur murmured.

"Is it?" Percy blinked. Annabeth had a furrow in between her brows, eyes darting between everyone, stare lingering on Harry. "Seems pretty normal to me," the demigod shrugged, causing Harry to shift and move, hopping onto the big table that held the god and the centaur's game of some sort.

"Phoenixes can't talk," Dionysus stated, staring intently at Harry.

Yeah, well, RIP to them, but Harry's different.

"_I'm special_," Harry puffed himself up in mock pride, relishing in the annoyed snort the god gave. "_And maybe they do, but they just didn't want to talk to ya'. You all don't seem to make for engaging conversation."_

Dionysus raised an eyebrow, slumping back in his seat. He had summoned another diet Coke, and was taking a few swigs of it. Burping, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, "and this demigod brat does?"

"Hey," Percy frowned, insulted.

"What else can you do?" Chiron prompted, curious. He seemed quite wary, as well. "A phoenix is an omen of rebirth, and appearing now is quite worrying." Wow, wasn't he contradicting his own words to Percy earlier, Harry thought with amusement. "Especially if you can do more than an average phoenix."

Harry wasn't an average phoenix.

Hell, he was a wizard first, _then_ a phoenix.

….

Not that these people knew that. Harry mulled over an answer to give them, carefully avoiding their stare to peer curiously at the game they had laid out. Cards and whatnot, arranged in a game that he never really seen before. It was in this instance that he felt something stir in the back of his mind, a gentle prodding that almost startled him physically.

Was he—was he being _summoned_?

How weird. And violating.

It was different from when he gave Sally one of his feathers, which was more deeply connected to his very essence. This felt almost artificial, though not menacing—it reminded him of someone, actually. He gently prodded at the feeling, before realization swelled in him.

Persephone.

Huh; well, at least it wasn't Hades or Poseidon. Small mercies and all that, though it didn't make it feel any less weird. She had made no attempt to contact him ever, especially since she left for spring a month or two ago.

Finding it weird, and probably not wise to ignore, Harry decided to answer the summon.

Harry crooned, mirthful. He'll come back later, to properly gauge and interact with Chiron to size him up; he hoped his apparent liking to Percy warranted the kid special treatment that might help him in the future. For now, he'll take his leave.

"_I can_," he declared solemnly, straightening from his peering slowly. Everyone stared at him, eager and waiting. With a slow and delighted smile, hidden by his form, Harry finished, "_make my great escape_."

Bursting into flames, Harry cackled amidst their shocked reactions.

-0-0-0-

Persephone looked different than she did in the Underworld.

In the Underworld, she was dressed as the Queen she was, with a jeweled crown that bloomed golden and silver flowers, diamonds littering each petal and thorn. She was dressed in a formal chiton at all times, with bracelets and a single necklace that crawled across her body like vines; her expression was reserved and bored, almost restless.

Now, though—

She was dressed in a leather jacket, her hair that was usually pinned up with diamonds and jewels now pinned up with flowers and leaves; her outfit was like a urban outfitters' wet dream with its denim shorts and white shirt, the oversized leather jacket looking _very_ out of place on her.

But she made it work.

Her expression was more open, almost mischievous.

Harry eyed her warily. "You look like you've been doing good," he observed, sitting on a nearby rock in the clearing he found her in. She tossed him a wide grin, before returning to tending to a little flower sprouting from the ground. "I take it you're enjoying yourself?"

"Of course, young Harry," Persephone replied with a chuckle. She let out a sigh and glanced up at the sky, a flicker of a frown passing through her face at the gloom it gave off. "Usually, my mother would be with me; she always is, you know, when I'm up here. But seeing as of that everyone is looking for Lord Zeus's Thunderbolt, everyone is busy."

"So, you're… free?" Harry guessed, which Persephone cackled at.

"I am!" Persephone cheered, clapping her hands together. Her eyes shone with excitement when she turned towards him. "I love my mother, I do, but she is kind of overbearing. I also love my husband Hades, but I can only last so long in the Underworld before it all becomes too much."

Harry hummed, considering.

He always knew that, to some extent, Persephone despised staying in the Underworld. Harry liked the Underworld, though he could understand why a goddess like Persephone wouldn't like it. It was the world of the _dead_, while Persephone was very much tuned in with nature and life, springtime and summer. And—Harry mused over the myth of Hades and Persephone, of how he stole her away from her mother, which made the goddess Demeter depressed and threatened to kill all the world.

(Sheesh, gods and their _dramatics_.)

At least, that was one version of the myth. Harry had no idea if it was true or not, here. It seemed much too personal to ask nowadays, actually meeting the Greek gods and goddesses that those myths captured.

"Do you like your husband?" Harry asked, curiously. He did not know if he was free to toss the names of Greek gods and goddesses around like they were, so until then, he'll find ways to mention them without stating them outright. Persephone blinked at the question, narrowing her eyes slightly.

She appraised him for a moment before her expression lightened to a more contemplative one, as she sat down on the ground across from him, behind her little flower.

"I do," Persephone admitted. "Despite what everyone thinks, I do." She frowned at the flower she created, it wilting a bit before she sighed and brushed a fingertip across its stem, making it blossom once more. "What do you think?"

Harry tilted his head. "About what? You liking him? Seeing as of that you two are married, I would hope so," he teased, making Persephone snort. She shook her head though.

"No, young Harry. I guess I'm asking what version of the story you believe?" Persephone's eyes flickered towards him, an almost humorless smile on her face. Her eyes were the color of spring, of baby blue skies and flickering leaves beneath sunlight. "I know mortals have a lot to say about it."

"I haven't heard many," Harry admitted, idly tracing the rock he was sitting on with his finger. The texture was rough against his fingertip, chafing slightly. "You were raised by your mother, and were pretty sheltered, right? Then, he saw you and kidnapped you?" Which was pretty shady, not going to lie.

"_Sheltered_ is right," Persephone spat out in a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "And you're right, he did take me from that field, so long ago. Though, it wasn't really kidnapping, seeing as of that he had permission from my father to do so." At Harry's slightly raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "Times were different then."

"Ah, of course," Harry agreed.

The wizarding world was pretty old-fashion as well, stagnant with magic and how easy it made everything—despite some impracticalities.

"_Fates_, I despised him then," Persephone laughed again, a bit more fond. Her eyes were hazy with memories, a careless smile tugging at her lips. "He never stopped trying, though. Every day, he brought me the most expensive gifts, he even created the gardens, filled with my favorite flowers."

Harry watched her, intrigued. It wasn't everyday someone could hear a myth being told from the _source_. "Did that win you over?"

"No," the reply was blunt enough surprise a laugh out of Harry. Persephone gave a cheshire grin, a bit sheepish looking. "You can't win someone over who doesn't want to be won over. It took months for me to allow such a thing." She sighed, wistful as she stared at the ground.

"What changed?" Harry prompted. It was hard to envision to see someone become comfortable with such a situation, Merlin knows Harry wouldn't be. To be taken from everything he's known in such a manner, captive and without a way out. The thought was skin crawling.

"I guess I did," Persephone mused. "It soon became the longest time I have ever been without my mother. I do love my mother, but—" She winced lightly, brow furrowing a bit. "She never really let me out of her sight often. It's even worse nowadays. Like, _come on_; it's not like I'm going to be kidnapped twice, you know?" She shook her head in disbelief, even as Harry laughed.

"I have a feeling that you won't let that happen," Harry stated.

Despite her grin, her eyes were deadly and serious. "_Never_ again, I swear on that," Persephone promised. "But as I was saying before, I changed. I suddenly found myself in a whole new world, without my mother hovering over my shoulder; it took me awhile to realize that this was a chance for something new for myself, something without my mother. It felt like… freedom."

_Felt_. Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. "What about the pomegranates? Is that what really happened?"

"Pomegranates," Persephone echoed. "Do you think he tricked me into eating them? No, he did not; my husband was reasonable, and at that point in time, was willing to do anything if it made me happy. If letting me return to the surface, return to my mother, made me happy, he would have done it."

The past tense was curious, but what she implied was even more so. Harry blinked. "So, does that mean…?"

The goddess gave a secretive smile, eyes alight with mirth. "Before I was forced to leave, I ate the pomegranate seeds myself."

How daring; Harry snorted, eyeing her as she let out a loose laugh. "I bet he was happy, huh?" Persephone nodded her agreement, her carefree smile dimming slightly.

"He's changed," Persephone murmured, voice almost lost to the soft breeze overtaking the clearing. Her voice almost mixed in with the twitter of birds, soft chirps of crickets; melting into the rustling of branches around them. Harry had to strain to hear her. "Ever since then, he's becoming more and more like my mother."

The disdain was clear in her voice, seething in her eyes. Her expression was sour.

Ah, Harry hummed internally. If he was reminding her of her mother, she was right to feel restless. If she no longer felt free with him, where was she then? No wonder she had gunned it out of there the moment spring arrived, despite the worry and tension lurking because Hades' helm was still missing. Though that probably hurt Hades more, now that Harry thought about it.

The more he tried to keep her, the more she was willing to leave. The more willing she left, the more Hades tried to keep her.

A dangerous cycle.

"Change happens to everyone, and everything," Harry mused, observing the way he flexed his fingers. Persephone's curious gaze was on him, and he smiled, wan. "It doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad thing. I'm sure you changed too, right? If you guys changed once, you can change again. Who knows, maybe you two can change together," he enthused, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're making it sound easy," Persephone rolled her eyes, seemingly exasperated. The light tone betrayed some fondness though, causing Harry to huff lightly in amusement at.

"If everything was easy, then is there anything worth pursuing?" Harry countered. Persephone paused at that, something alight in her eyes. Harry ignored it in order to sigh internally, because he just now realized what he was doing; playing marriage counselor to his host and hostess's godly marriage, good grief.

Every so often, Harry was struck with the absurdity of his life, and what it has become.

Feeling so wildly out of place, out of body where he didn't feel _real_, Harry startled when Persephone hummed loudly to get his attention.

"I'm also curious," Persephone graciously didn't mention Harry's blanch, though her eyes were trained on him. Harry couldn't find the words to speak, so he nodded numbly. She flashed him a quick smile before it dropped, her expression now eerily vacant. "What are you doing with Poseidon's son?"

_Percy_? "What do you mean?"

"I was spying on Camp Halfblood, when I noticed you and him talking to each other." There was no accusation in her voice, but her eyes were serious. "Are you thinking of betraying my husband?" Harry recoiled at that, shaking his head instantly.

"_No_," he said earnestly, making Persephone blink and relax some. "I would never betray someone," because being betrayed sucked, and Harry didn't want to do that to someone, to anyone. Plus, he may be a lot of things, but being a betrayer? The thought made him sick. "But," he continued, making the goddess narrow her eyes slightly. "I will never punish someone who is innocent either."

"Are you saying Poseidon's son is innocent? How can you be so sure?" Persephone questioned, baffled. Her eyes were wide.

"Well, for one, he's a kid," Harry replied dryly, smirking lightly. "He barely knows how to do basic algebra without getting all confused, I highly doubt he can somehow manage a heist of two major godly weapons in one go. Especially because he literally just found out about his heritage only a week ago."

Persephone's brow furrowed. "He could be faking, and he could have had help," she huffed.

"Help from who?" Harry raised his eyebrows. He shook his head at her suggestions. The righteous feeling his inner phoenix was rifled at the prospect, rising beneath his skin to warm his next words, making them feel fuller. "I am sure he innocent, as sure as the sun rises every day."

Persephone took a few moments to ponder this, staring at him. At last, she let an amusement quirk her lips. "I wouldn't swear by that, young Harry. Apollo sometimes forgets his duties due to his late nights of _fun_," she emphasized the last word suggestively, making Harry snort.

"Does he really forget to drive the sun across the sky?"

"He does, the sun doesn't. He has it on autopilot, I think."

"Then my point still stands," Harry replied smoothly, though a bit bemused and bewildered at the fact that the sun itself was more reliable than the actual sun god himself. Though, these are _Greek_ gods they were talking about; they were flawed like everyone else.

Persephone barked out a laugh at that, full of life and amusement. She settled herself soon enough, smiling brightly at him. "I want to help," she declared decisively, almost sweetly. Harry nodded absently before stiffening and shooting her a look.

"You want to what?" Harry inquired.

"Help you." Persephone nodded. "I'll take your word on Poseidon's kid. You have yet to lie to me, or my husband, so I see no reason why you would lie now. But that does brings us to the question of if he didn't do it, then who did?" She leaned forward, shadow looming over her flower; Harry noted that it had a pattern etched into its petals, giving off a faint glow reminiscent of the Underworld's gardens.

Her grin was downright worrying.

"I want to help catch them."

Which was weird, because Persephone wasn't that willing to help back in the Underworld. But then again, Harry mused, learning of her restlessness down there, it made sense. The talk they just had lingered in his head, though; she was just bemoaning her stagnant and seemingly almost downtrodden marriage problems with Hades to him, then she suddenly wants to help him?

"Why?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Well, why not," Persephone huffed. She settled back and crossed her arms, frowning at him stubbornly. Her expression faltered as her eyes shifted. "He is my husband, is that not reason enough?" Harry stayed silent, waiting. At last, she muttered, "if I do this this, then _maybe_—" The words cut off, as she sighed; the words were wistful, hopeful.

So much so, it made the phoenix in Harry croon appreciatively. Harry cocked his head to the side with a slight smile. "Maybe?"

She shot him an almost scathing glare, though it lacked much heat. She then dismissed his prodding casually, eyes distant with a light smile of her own. "Just maybe."

Well, it seemed that was all he was getting out of her, then. Harry wasn't going to push for anything, because it wasn't in his plans at the moment to delve deep into the psyche of the Greek pantheon of gods and goddesses anytime soon (or ever, for that matter). If she felt that she wanted to do it, then that's all there was to it; who was Harry to deny her this, anyway?

"Then it's settled," Harry shrugged, standing to stretch. His body shook, bones practically creaking as he raised his arms over his head and sighed slightly. He felt tired all of a sudden, heavy limbed and even heavier existence. Perhaps he shall call it a day, and retreat to the island he claimed to nap. "We'll meet up soon then, to discuss everything more in detail."

The goddess perked up at that, smiling brightly. "I'll get ready for that, then," she sounded too enthused, causing Harry to eye her warily. As he gathered his magic to apparate, letting it heat up his insides in a soothing manner. Ever since his first animagus transformation, his apparations were swathed in flames and magic, heat and life.

It took a while to get used to.

"You know, it might not be easy," Harry warned, not really in an attempted to ward her off. If anything, it was a statement of what might come, an observation anyone can see.

Persephone scoffed, not at all deterred. She took great delight in throwing his earlier words back at him with a smile, "I think I heard that things worth pursuing never are."

_Touché._

* * *

To-Do List:

[x] Check up on Percy* [*Perseus]

[ ]Figure out what to do next [Moved to a later date]

[ ]Profit? [An ally?]

* * *

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

I'm actually having a bit of trouble really characterizing the gods, tbh lmao

But I can't help but envision Persephone as that one meme going:

"_are you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go apeshit"_

See ya' next time! B]

(P.S if you have any ideas or wants that you might like to see happen in the story, I'd love to read them! :D )

-mms


	3. Chapter 2

**Dies Irae**

_Chapter 2_

_This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. If ya' see a mistake, help a pal out, will ya'? :'D_

**Warnings:** General. Rushed writing, slow build.

**A/N:** Writing this chapter was a headache and a half! I've wanted to delve a bit about fate, and free will, and all that jazz—in the end, I just spiraled myself into an existential crisis and my head is a jumbled mess, lmao.

I have the curse of overthinking stuff. Orz

Also, this chapter is only adding to the slow-build aspect to this story. While I love reading slow build stories, they're always complicated to write—though, this chapter is mostly just two perspectives on the whole fate/free will thing I tortured myself with, lolol. ((Seriously, I read a lot of thesis and essays about destiny and the subject of free will

That being said, enjoy!

* * *

"You know, this isn't exactly what I had in _mind_."

Harry paused in the middle of pouring syrup over his waffles, blinking curiously at Poseidon. He sat slouched in his seat at the little round table, arms crossed and definitely not brooding, lips pursed into a tight line. Seeing his expression, the god's expression soured more and he sent a pointed glance at Persephone.

Who was amusing herself with plucking petals off a flower, before growing them back again. A small little mountain of petals were in front of her.

All three of them were in some no-name diner, along America's infamous Route 66. It held a homey vibe, though its cheap price range was echoed in some of its outdated interior decorations, and squeaky chairs and booths. Harry eyed some cracks in the plaster before shrugging and turning towards the god of the sea again; it was a decent place with an even more decent set of waffles.

Though—Poseidon wasn't complaining about the place. He was complaining about the Queen of the Underworld also being in said place.

"She wants to help," Harry explained simply, returning to his task of delicately lacing syrup over his food.

Poseidon let out a frustrated noise, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, but _why_?"

"I'm right here, you know," Persephone interjected smoothly, sending the god a raised eyebrow. "Young Harry does not speak for me." She swept up her petals into her hands, pressing her palms together and releasing them into her cup of water. "I am here to help," she repeated Harry's earlier words.

"But _why_?" Poseidon gritted out, brow furrowing. "Because I'm pretty sure your husband isn't too happy with me at the moment." At this, he gestured at Harry, causing the wizard to grin sheepishly at him. Though he did it in his own way, with his own motives—he was still technically following Hades' order of kidnapping Sally.

'Kidnapping'.

Quotation marks around that word.

Persephone agreed easily. "You're correct about that, he isn't." She stirred her drink, the water taking on a faint hue. "But that does not me that I am not allowed to do as I see fit. I am his _wife_, not his pet." With this, she sent the god of the sea a dry look as she sipped on her drink.

"_Still_ doesn't answer my question," Poseidon muttered, crossing his arms.

"Young Harry here insisted that your son is innocent. He has never lied to Hades or I before, so I see no reason why he would now." The answer was succinct. Persephone's springtime colored eyes shifted from leafy greens to rustic soil. "If your son did not steal the Thunderbolt, and my husband's helm, then who did?"

Poseidon's eyes shifted over her, raising an eyebrow.

"We didn't do it," Persephone snapped, and the god of the sea huffed in amusement. Tossing Poseidon a haughty look, ichor flushing to her face, Persephone continued stiffly, "_anyways_, if we are able to find a culprit, we could prove your son's innocence as well as getting my husband's helm back."

"And the Thunderbolt," Harry included, noting with a slight grin at the dismissive shrug Persephone gave as well as Poseidon's barely concealed eye-roll. Their opinions on the god of the sky were apparent, and only fueled Harry's minute desire to avoid him as much as possible.

"Sure," Poseidon muttered. "How do you wish to go about this, then? It is only a matter of time before a quest is delivered, then any chance of properly helping my son is diminished greatly. Especially if is decreed by the Fates."

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired, curious.

"The gods have limited input during quests," Poseidon explained, still staring glumly at the table in front of them. "If not for Zeus's laws, then the Fates. They're very… _picky_ about their designs. No one dares defy them in fear of retribution." At this, the god cocked his head and his eyes flicked upwards to meet Harry's evenly. "Those who do… well, I'm sure you heard of the stories."

Harry shifted a bit, nodding. "But I'm also very curious—people have defied fate before, right? Like, with cancer and stuff. They were 'fated' to die, but didn't," he mused, curiously. The topic of death came easily to him, enough for him to know that cancer and other fatal diseases were meant to be just that—fatal.

In this world, surely that meant that Fates intended for them to die.

But with chemo, and treatments, and ever-growing advancements in medicine—people have survived. They took the smallest chance they could and ran with it, determined to live another day, nothing left to lose. Harry could appreciate that, a warm sentiment growing in his chest at the thought.

"Only mortals can really dare to defy the Fates." Persephone shrugged. She sipped at her drink, eyeing the motorcycles that were parked outside the diner with interest. "They are inevitable, anyways. If they do not get what they want the first time around, who is going to stop them from trying again? Or who is to say that it wasn't planned at all, for them to 'fail' the first time?"

How confusing—the talk of fate, and prophecies, they all wrapped around Harry's head and strung together, knotting together in a big tangled mess. Harry briefly wondered if the Fates knew about him, if they accounted for him—he wasn't originally from this world, after all.

So, maybe he had a loophole.

Ah, but it was often in the act of avoiding a prophecy that often made them come true. Voldemort's own attempt at avoiding the one about him was what kickstarted everything, what was the that start of the hell that was Harry's life. Dumbledore did not help matters much, feeding into it as he did, grooming him for what was to come.

Even if he wasn't a loophole—Harry took Persephone's words into account. If nothing he did could change Fates' design, if his effort to 'defy' a prophecy to help out a _kid_ were all in vain… it didn't matter. He'd still try and help, because if he didn't, then who would?

(He remembers standing with the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, the most of his support were his friends who were just as young as he was, unsure; all he could do was continue pushing forward, watching as those who could do something did _nothing_.)

If he just sat around, doing nothing—the thought made Harry cringe internally, because that wasn't an option. Was never an option for him, really. Being a bystander when he could do _something_ was unforgivable.

Besides, it wasn't like he out to defy the Fates specifically. All he wanted to do was to help Percy out, and if 'defying' fate just happened to fall into that category, well—tough luck, that. Come what may, he'll meet in the middle.

(He briefly wondered if Hagrid would love it in this world; its creatures would certainly intrigue him.)

"All this talk isn't going to be helping my son," Poseidon forcefully reminded them. "We are limited on time as it is, talking about philosophy like this isn't going to _help_ Percy. We need to figure out what we're going to do next."

"Right," Harry murmured, closing the lid on his current thoughts and shoved it towards the back to ruminate on it later. He rubbed a spot on his wrist absently, thinking. "I suppose we could ask whoever's been searching on what they have, and work from there."

"You want to bring others into this?" Poseidon furrowed his brows, sitting up straighter.

"If they agree, yes," the wizard replied, eyeing the god's reaction warily. "If not, then we'll have to start from scratch and that will take longer."

"Yes, but if we waste time asking for help and having to start from the beginning anyways, that would waste _more_ time," Poseidon countered, a prominent frown on his mouth. The tension tugged his expression down, souring it into something brooding and stern. Persephone eyed him with interest. "The time for planning is waning, and the time for action needs to start as soon as possible."

"This is a delicate thing, what we're doing," Persephone inputted, sipping her drink. "To defy Fate as much as we are able without really _outright_ defying them. It does take some type of planning instead of rushing into things, like how you usually do." Poseidon's head snapped towards her, affronted; Harry interrupted because _seriously_, the last thing he needed was gods' petty bickering during a good breakfast.

"How about we do both?" Harry offered. "Persephone and I will ask for help, while you start an investigation. Then we'll work from there," the plan was half-assed, but there wasn't much one could plan when going in blind and Harry had no idea what to expect.

Not from a world with Greek Mythology, with gods and goddesses that embodied those myths and currently had their own system and way of thinking. Not with the Fates being an actual thing that seemed to have plans with Percy.

All Harry usually had to go with was instinct, and his own brand of luck that seemed to carry him through most things in his life.

Poseidon shifted a bit, vaguely sulking. "Seems a bit one-sided."

"Think of it this way—you get bragging rights on us if they don't agree," Harry had no idea who 'they' were, but Persephone seemed to perk up at the mention. She seemed to know more about the progression of the search and others on Olympus.

At this, the god of the sea seemed begrudging. "Okay," he agreed at last, reluctance still lingering in his tone. He reached for something in his pocket, presenting it to Harry casually. Harry leaned forward, even as Persephone made an appreciative noise at the sight of it.

It was some type of clam. It honestly reminded Harry of one of those clam shell mirrors, but the make was much more shiny and exquisite. It looked like something Harry would break simply by touching it, though he accepted it at the slightest twitch of impatience on Poseidon's expression.

"Thanks?" Harry offered an awkward smile.

"You're welcome," Poseidon drawled. "It's a communication device, and the only one that currently exists. I tend not to give these out often," he explained with great importance, and Harry instantly understood a lot more. Sirius's hearty laugh that sounded like a dog barking echoed in his ears, and Harry couldn't help the wistful quirk of his lips, despite the painful spike through his core.

Mirrors still made great communication devices, who knew?

"I'll cherish it, then," Harry promised, still heavy with sentiment from lifetimes ago. Poseidon blinked, seemingly taken aback at the sincere show of emotion. He rubbed an awkward hand through his hair, eyeing him with critical eyes.

"It's the only way we can openly communicate without fear of others hearing," Poseidon continued. "I don't know if the goddess Iris will betray me—"

"Oh, she would. She hates you." Persephone delved with much glee, and Poseidon slanted a glare towards her.

"_So_ this is the only reliable way," Poseidon said with finality, ignoring Persephone. He met eyes with Harry once more, the hard flint in them softening as Harry kept his stare. The wan smile he gave Harry was surprising in its sincerity. "We'll see each other again."

And with the faint breeze of the ocean, of salt and freedom, he was gone.

"Does the goddess of rainbows really hate him?" Harry asked, as he examined his new contraption with mute interest. Persephone chuckled beside him, waving off his question with a jovial gesture of her hand.

"No, I was just teasing with that part." Persephone admitted. "Though, she would betray him as long as my father sees him as an enemy. A lot of goddesses and gods take sides whenever the Olympians fight, and seeing as of that so many are on my father's side—they'd take their side too, in order to gain favor."

"And who are we trying to get on our side?" Harry pocketed the clam in his moleskin bag, which was charmed to hold a lot of stuff. He waved for a check, giving a curious glance at Persephone. The goddess of springtime ran fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"It might be a long shot, but it is still a shot, young Harry." Persephone mused carefully. Her eyes melted from the dusty hue of carnations to a hopeful blue. "The Twins seem to be on the forefront of the search."

The Twins—Harry minutely winced, because of course Persephone would choose _Olympians_ of all the gods and goddesses to go to first. But considering her status as Queen of the Underworld—maybe, it wasn't so surprising. People tend to flock to others of their own social standing, after all.

"We'll start after breakfast," Harry sighed, returning to his meal. While he does not regret what he was doing, he did feel a bit tired.

And if he was going to be dealing with more gods and goddesses in his future, at the very least— Harry deserved a decent breakfast.

-0-0-0-

Apollo loosened his grip on his arrow, and let it fly.

It was almost exhilarating, watching it soar through the air. It hit its mark with a very satisfying thump, a bright and easy grin already spreading across his face. He fist pumped the air and turned towards his sister expectantly, seeing Artemis's narrowed gaze peer at his hit.

"Still got it, sis!" Apollo cheered, shouldering his bow to cross his arms. Artemis snorted and dragged her gaze back to him, unimpressed.

"We share a domain in archery, idiot," Artemis scoffed. She rolled her eyes as she notched her own arrow, taking aim at the same target he struck earlier. Apollo frowned at her, though she went on to say, "never doubted you in the first place, _lil' bro_."

With that, her arrow flew and struck his, splitting his arrow in half at the target.

"Ah, man," Apollo complained, sending her an exaggerated pout. Artemis didn't pay no mind, slowly lowering her stance to peer at her shot, satisfaction gleaming in her moonlit eyes. "I loved that arrow! That one in specific, now it's ruined," the god of the sun gestured towards it.

"As if Hephaestus cannot make you more," Artemis sent him an irritated glance. Apollo continued to give her an imploring look, causing annoyance to twitch on her face. "It's not like anything can be done about it now!"

"You could make it up to me," Apollo said slyly, a slow grin overtaking his face.

"No."

"That was too blunt! You don't even know what I was going to ask for yet!" Apollo cried at her quick dismissal, watching as she turned and started to walk away, back to her camp. Apollo followed, dogging her footsteps. "Do it for your favorite twin brother!"

"You're my only twin brother," Artemis replied, without looking back. "Unfortunately."

"You know you love me," Apollo caught up, throwing an arm around her shoulder. She tried to shrug him off, but he latched on tighter, causing her to roll her eyes and huff. Their brisk pace settled to a slow walk as they continued through the woods, sunlight streaming through the branches of the trees.

"Unfortunately," Artemis seemed to lament. Apollo just grinned at her. "Hypothetically, if I were to do something for you, what will you ask?" The goddess of the hunt relented, exasperation clear in her voice.

"Well, if you let me spend time with some of your hunters—" Apollo teased, but before he could finish, he was suddenly picked up by the front of his shirt and tossed into a tree. He grunted as let himself be thrown around, knowing full well he deserved it because Artemis's hunters were precious to her.

"_Apollo_," Artemis growled, eyes alight with a predator's gleam. "If you're just going to be a creep, I'll treat you like one, and use your genitals for my next target practice," she stressed, causing Apollo to let out a little whine and jump up, shifting his lower body away from his sister.

"I was just joking, sis!" Apollo shook his head, covering his lower parts with his hands. Artemis snorted at the action, though her eyes were still hard. "I'm sorry, I really am," he insisted a bit more seriously, which Artemis eyed before nodding slightly. Feeling properly forgiven, the god of the sun perked up and skipped back over to his sister, throwing another arm around her shoulders.

But before he could touch her, she said, "not the time, Apollo."

Hastily, he pulled his arm back and dropped it, undisturbed. "But I was really going to ask something of you, sis. I was wondering if you could help me look for something," he continued easily, causing Artemis to send him a critical look. He shrugged in reply.

"If father finds out that we're taking time off looking for his weapon, he won't be pleased," Artemis reminded, causing Apollo to wince. And also to internally scoff, because both of them just engaged in a little archery competition just mere moments ago!

"When is he ever pleased?" Apollo muttered, causing Artemis to send him a slight glance. She eyed him, and he waved her off. "But I already know he is going to get his weapon back, so we don't need to worry too much about it. Uncle's son will help in that," he assured, causing Artemis's brows to furrow.

Artemis was quiet for a few moments, both of them coming to a stop about half a mile away from her camp. In the wilderness, she almost blended in, in her element; if Apollo wasn't her other half, her twin brother, he swore he would have missed her with how seamlessly she blended in. Even with his own eyesight, which were _made_ for archery.

"What do you want to look for?" Artemis asked tersely. Apollo practically cheered, sending her a bright grin that lightened the woods around them, causing his sister to glance away with an exaggerated eye roll.

"I heard there was a phoenix in modern day! It's been _forever_ since I saw one," Apollo explained, causing the goddess of the hunt to blink. "I wish to meet it, and see if I can get some of its tears. As a bird of healing, I figured it'd only be right if I meet it."

"A phoenix? Seriously?" Artemis asked, baffled.

"Seriously serious!"

"Huh." Artemis pondered this for a moment, rubbing her chin in thought. "It has been awhile since I hunted a phoenix," she murmured, almost wistfully. Apollo gave her a stricken look, making her blink at him and roll her eyes. "_Fine_, I won't hunt this one. But if there is another one, I'm hunting it."

"The first phoenix in over a thousand years, and your first thought was to _hunt_ it?" Apollo complained, making his sister shoot him an annoyed glance and gesture at herself. Right, goddess of the hunt. He sighed in fake disappointment, though his smile was telling. "I suppose it is a form of hunting to find it. Just no killing it, okay?"

Artemis rolled her eyes. "It's a _phoenix_. It'll just be reborn afterwards, anyways," she muttered petulantly. A lot of monsters came back too, though phoenixes were slightly different. It was a surprise when they disappeared so suddenly thousands of years ago; it had caused some unease when it happened.

Athena, ever the wise and taciturn one, suggested that perhaps that mortals didn't believe them anymore and that is why they faded from existence. While a sensible explanation, Apollo always felt that it was _wrong_. Not that he dare say it, because Athena was terrifying when she thought people wanted to prove her wrong; especially without evidence to back up their claims.

"No need."

The voice had startled the two twins, both of them notching arrows and instantly aiming towards the source. Artemis was practically snarling silently beside him, teeth bared in a grimace. Apollo knew she must be angry because this was basically her element, and _no one_ should be able to sneak up on them like this.

An affinity for nature, then? Apollo's mind raced through the possibilities, fingers slowly loosening his grip on his arrow as the person stepped out—

Almost instantly, he dropped his arrow and blinked. "Lady Persephone?"

Artemis lowered her arrow hastily as well, face still twisted up in an uncomfortable and seething grimace. She shifted as she put the arrow into her quiver, carefully avoiding making eye contact with the lady of the underworld. Apollo dimly remembered her little crush on the goddess springtime when they were younger (younger than a thousand years).

No doubt, it should have faded; still, it must be awkward for his sister.

Any amusement Apollo felt bubble up was popped when his eyes met with the bird on Persephone's shoulder. Persephone smirked at them, flowers blooming underneath her bare feet and in her hair, the phoenix sitting on her shoulder staring intently at the two of them.

It's been so _long_.

"Hello Apollo, and hello Artemis," Persephone greeted regally, hand reaching up to stroke a gentle finger across the fire colored feathers. Her smile was practically mischievous. "I did not mean to eavesdrop, so I apologize for intruding. But isn't it fortunate that I come anyways?"

Artemis's eyes were sharp on her. "How fortunate," his sister repeated. Her eyes flickered to the phoenix and raised an eyebrow. "I did not know that the bird attached itself to you. Though, I suppose it makes sense, considering your domain."

"You came to see us?" Apollo questioned, brow furrowing. While he was happy that the phoenix came to them, a bit disappointed that Persephone claimed it before he could—they couldn't forget that this was uncle Hades' wife.

Hades, as in the god that possibly be waging war against their father as they speak.

Apollo didn't know the specifics, but he did have a feeling that the future included both of his uncles. The Big Three were one of the one constants in his prophecies. While that didn't automatically mean _guilty_ for Hades, it did mean suspicion, and Apollo always made sure to steer clear away from those heavily involved in prophecies and visions, fearing to change what the Fates set in stone.

But Persephone was here, talking to them. Something he didn't foresee.

_Something changed_.

A slight glance at Artemis had him relax slightly, because she too was still on guard. Her grip on her bow was still tight, moonlit eyes dark and predatory on the goddess of spring.

"My domains?" Persephone mused. "I suppose so, though he is not mine. He appeared in the Underworld, with both my husband and I in the room." She gave the bird a curious look, which the phoenix cocked its head at. A smile quirked her lips. "Perhaps joint custody?"

The bird gave her a look, causing her laugh.

"I repeat, you came to us?" Apollo insisted, anxious. He didn't want the future to change, when it was well on its way, and didn't want his father to look down and see. Their father wasn't the most reasonable when angry, and he was seemingly always angry with Apollo.

"That is right!" Persephone clapped her hands together, eyes alight. The summer sun burned bright across her dark skin, alighting her hair; she really was the picture of spring come to life. The phoenix accented the life held within her. "I came to ask for help," she continued.

"Help?" Artemis huffed. "With what, overtaking Olympus with your _husband_?" The last word was spat out bitterly, causing the goddess of spring to pause and frown. Apollo nudged his sister lightly, despite knowing her bitterness at Persephone's tale.

A young girl kidnapped and forced to marry a man? Artemis's worst nightmare (it was Apollo's too, for his sister).

"Do not speak ill of him," Persephone narrowed her eyes. The phoenix crooned a soft song, and Apollo felt his breath catch at the melody. It was an incredibly warm song, warming the air around the clearing; it felt like it moved in time with the earth slowly moving in its rotation, in the summer flowers that bloomed along the trees. It felt warm, it felt exhilarating—

It felt _right_.

Like how everything was where it was supposed to be.

Of course, the bird stopped after a few moments. It seemingly gave Persephone a pointed look, causing her to shake out of her dazed state to frown. "Dirty," she accused it, despite the lovely little sigh she gave. Her mouth was a slight smile.

"That was amazing," Apollo gushed, stepping forward instantly. He felt Artemis shake herself behind him, hearing her grit her teeth. He ignored her for now, walking up to the lady of the underworld with stars in his eyes. "It's been _forever_ since I last saw a phoenix!" The phoenix eyed him as he approached, with Persephone crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him.

"It has been quite some time," she agreed smoothly.

Apollo nodded, not taking his eyes off the phoenix. He really wanted it. With a feeling of giddiness in his chest, he announced with a bright smile, "in fact, I think I feel a _haiku_ coming on—"

"No!" Artemis snarled, and then Apollo felt her snatch the back of his shirt. She tugged him back to where they were standing, moving him a bit behind her. "No haikus. And while amazing as it is to see another phoenix again, as I see it—we're still on opposite sides. Why do you need _our_ help?"

Persephone pursed her lips, her springtime eyes filtering through different shades of summer blues and lush greens, morphing into the soft dusky hues of flowers. At last, her lashes lowered and her expression softened. "Do you truly think my husband and I are working against Olympus?"

The question lingered heavy in the air.

Artemis recoiled at it, as did Apollo. It was an honest question, that much Apollo could tell. In a world where gods poised and flaunted their words, their meanings; an honest question was rare to find. Much less to the two twins of Archery, because while powerful—

They were still considered a younger age of Olympians, compared to the others. Grouped with Hermes, and Dionysus, they were the younger Olympians. It was rare for anyone 'above' them to really ask for their honest opinion.

"I do not know," Artemis found her voice, tasting the words in her mouth. "I don't see it one way or another, but as long as Lord Zeus commands it, we will be on his side. Right, Apollo?" His sister swung her gaze onto him, looking for validation.

Apollo worried his lower lip, averting his eyes.

"Apollo," Artemis narrowed her eyes.

"Look, I see all, know all yada yada yada—" Apollo began, waving a flippant hand. His gaze traveled to the phoenix, who cocked its head at him. "I do know that our uncles are very prominent in the near future. Something big is coming. Who is to say that the two of them rebelling against father isn't the beginning of it?"

"Rebel for what?" Persephone scoffed. "Power? If you are forgetting, Lord Poseidon and my husband have their own domains, both of which are just as powerful as the skies."

Apollo gave her an empty look, because this was more than just mere _rebelling_ amongst gods. It was older than them, interwoven in the world around them, trembling and existing alongside them, warning—suffocating. The weight of the future was always heavy in Apollo's mind.

It always made him feel so _tiny_.

And generally, as a god, he disliked that feeling a whole lot.

Artemis huffed and puffed beside him, standing close to him. Her hand brushed lightly against his, grounding him. "Even if we were to betray our father, you give us no reason to do so. Do you wish us to follow you because you _asked_?"

Persephone bristled, ichor flushing angrily to her pretty face.

The phoenix cooed softly.

"_They have a point, Lady Persephone_." A soft voice brushed against them, an imprint of a voice in their mind. Apollo practically choked on a breath, while his sister inhaled sharply. Persephone pursed her lips, her eyes slanting to who spoke—

The phoenix.

The voice was distinctly masculine, a pleasant and low tone that seemed to thrum in Apollo's head. Instinctively, he knew that it'd be a decent singer, though he could never really be too sure until he heard it firsthand. It had to be the phoenix, though—this was unprecedented! A phoenix that could _communicate_?

_Whoa_.

"You speak!?" Artemis hissed, arrow notched and pointed at the bird. Apollo sputtered, throwing an arm out and smacking hers down, then pinning them to her side in a mock hug as she struggled against him. "Apollo! Stop _touching _me!"

"Sis! You gotta calm down!" Apollo pleaded, squeezing harder. "You're going to scare him off!"

"Good luck with that," Persephone mused, trailing a finger underneath the phoenix's chin. The phoenix seemed to chirp at that, before stiffening and tossing it's head to the other side with a disgruntled air. The goddess of springtime grinned wolfishly. "You're more compliant like this, I must say."

"_I suppose_," the phoenix replied shortly. With a croon that mimicked a sigh, he turned his attention back to the two godly twins in front of them. Artemis had stopped struggling, allowing Apollo to step back; his hand was loosely threaded with hers, though. Both of them stared at the phoenix. "_Hullo_."

Apollo could only incline his head, grateful he didn't stammer as he said, "hello to you."

When Artemis didn't respond, still glaring warily at the bird, Apollo gently squeezed her hand. The goddess of the hunt gritted her teeth, and forced out a short, "hi." And that was the best the phoenix was going to get.

"_I understand that asking for help seems a bit suspicious_," the phoenix agreed, lifting from Persephone's shoulder to perch in a nearby tree. It observed them with sharp eyes. "_As hard as it might be, please believe me when I say it is not with any hidden intentions. We do wish for help, nothing more, nothing less_."

"Even so," Artemis shoved her foot into Apollo's when he opened his mouth to reply. He snapped his mouth shut, kicking her back. She grunted but continued, staring stonily at the phoenix. "You give us no reason, and we stated our stance. If you continue to _pester_ us, I might take offense to that."

Persephone narrowed her eyes, the color in them shifting to deep and dark soil. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise." Artemis replied, letting go of Apollo's hand to grab another arrow. Persephone only stared blankly at her, the goddess's expression tense. The phoenix gave a short trill to get their attention back on him, amongst Apollo's own turbulent emotions.

"_We're asking for help because we believe Poseidon's son is innocent," _the phoenix explained. "_We want to find who really took the Thunderbolt and the Helm, in hopes to prove his innocence as well as figuring out who is the real culprit_." At the mention of the boy, Artemis's expression deadpanned.

"Guilty until proven innocent," she replied. "If he is really innocent, he can prove that for himself."

The phoenix seemed indignant at that, puffing up. "_Perseus __**is**__ innocent. It should not fall to a 12 year old to convince everyone that he didn't do something_," the bird practically seethed, causing his sister to blink and grimace slightly, taken aback. Apollo shifted, also a bit uneasy at the phoenix's ire, especially when directed towards his sister.

Persephone tilted her head, combing her fingers through her hair thoughtfully. They fell in loose curls over her shoulder, the flowers intertwined within them glistening in the light. "If you two truly do not wish to help finding the real culprit behind everything," she mused, settling them both with a look. "Then I apologize for bothering in the first place. If you excuse us," with that, the queen of the underworld held out her arm for the phoenix to perch on, dismissing themselves as easily as they came.

Apollo sucked in a deep breath, torn.

"Wait—" The god managed to strain out, causing everyone to pause. He could feel Artemis's moonlit eyes staring holes into him, but he kept his gaze on the still back of the goddess of springtime. His gaze met the phoenix's and he swallowed, licking his lips. "What—what do you think you're doing?"

"Helping my husband," Persephone replied in a very _'duh_ way, making Apollo bristle. The phoenix only tilted his head, prompting the god to ignore the goddess's jab at him (as hard as that was).

"No," Apollo shook his head. "What do you think you're doing with the future? Do you really think you can defy what is already in motion?" _Aren't you scared? Are you dumb? _Apollo couldn't wrap his head around it, because if there was one thing he took seriously, it was the Fates and prophecy.

And his haikus— maybe some music shows that he hasn't been able to visit due to his current Olympian duties—and definitely, most definitely, his sister and his mother.

Because Apollo was all for giving his father Zeus the middle finger behind his back every chance he got, but if anything – _anything_\- threatened his sister and mother, he will put a stop to it.

Persephone seemed to pause at that, sending him a mild glance from over her shoulder. She didn't seem too sure herself, and Apollo couldn't help the bitter stab of viciousness that spiked him, forcing him to give the goddess a cruel smile. Only to falter when he met the resolute stare of the phoenix, whose fire burned brighter.

"_Is it easier to go along with whatever Fate has planned?_" The phoenix asked, sounding tired. Apollo squirmed, a bit taken aback at the question. Artemis snorted derisively at the question, and Persephone's soil-dark eyes lingered on her companion, waiting.

"Yes," Apollo answered at last, slowly. Because it was safer that way, to go along with whatever Fates has planned than attempting anything else. Because the Fates possess a power that was above even Olympians, and no one could ever truly defy them.

"_Choosing between right and what is easy…_," the phoenix sounded contemplative, letting out a little chirp that had Apollo's breath catching at the sound. It was musical, light, and _goddamn it all_, Apollo wanted his own little phoenix. "_In a world defined by fate, let it be our choices who define us_."

And with that, the goddess of the underworld and the phoenix were swallowed by a swath of flames. They were gone the next instant, leaving nothing behind by flickers of disappearing flames and ash, and the smell of fragrant flowers.

Apollo felt stricken, as if he tripped over something and only caught himself in time to avoid falling flat onto his face. His balance was disrupted, and he was… uncomfortable. Artemis touched his arm, and he met her eyes, seeing her tense expression echoing what he felt.

"Let us return," Artemis urged, and with one last scathing glance to where Persephone and the phoenix was, started to drag him through the woods to her camp. Apollo let himself be dragged along, unable to trust himself to keep his feet steady enough to follow after her.

At least Apollo got to meet the phoenix, despite being left in such a state.

* * *

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

I promise I'll try to spice things up from now on! B]

I've been really wanting to start writing regularly again.

See ya'!

-mms


	4. Chapter 3

**Dies Irae **

_Chapter 3_

_This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form! If you see a mistake, please don't be afraid to call me out on it! :'D I'll get to it when I have the energy!_

**Warnings**: General. Slow build. Canon divergence. _**Rushed** _writing.

**A/N:** It feels like _years_ since I last updated this, but nah, that's just the 2020 mood, haha. I hope that this chapter makes some sort of sense because this was written in chunks and pieces over the year, and nearing the end, I just knitted it all together. I inserted a lot of scenes, took out a lot of scenes, and there _was_ a scene with Percy askin' Harry if he was his father and that would have lead to a discussion of Greek Mythology hierarchy and aaaaAAAAAAAA-

/deep breath

I just have a lot of thoughts and head cannons, and I feel as if I crammed too much into this chapter, lmao. I hope it makes sense? It's going in a direction I wasn't really expecting, and I'm just trying to roll with it, lmao. Though it does open up a lot of possibilities and future drama.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Actions have consequences, and snags are often torn open and knitted back together.**

* * *

"You don't take rejection well, do you?"

"_Quiet_, young Harry," Persephone ground out, as she observed her reflection in a stream. They were in some unexplored parts of France, and a clearwater spring reflected the endless sky and lush greenery above it. Fish lazily swam about, and Harry was caught in a staring contest with some deer from across the way. "It was worth a shot," the goddess of spring huffed, carefully threading flowers through her newly-braided hair.

"But now they know," Harry reminded her worriedly, breaking his stare. He ignored the smug aura the deer seemed to have to kneel beside the goddess, meeting her eyes through the reflection. Her eyes were the color of volcanic rock and embers, cracked soil and dusty carnations. "Will they tell?"

"They will not," Persephone replied quickly before furrowing her eyebrows. She idly cracked her knuckles. "I hope not," she reassured. "Besides, there are more options other than them. It would have been more convenient, but nonetheless, we shall work with what we have."

"And what do we have?" Harry asked, warily.

"Their mother," Persephone stood up abruptly, having changed back to a formal chiton. Harry stared up at her as she brushed herself off, her smile confident—which didn't mean much, considering she wore the same smile before meeting the Twins.

And _that_—well, that could have gone better.

"Their mother?" Harry repeated. It really did seem like Persephone did not take rejection well, now. "If her children did not agree, who says she will?" Not to mention the fact that the Twins could take that as a sign of aggression, and could retaliate?

Harry wasn't an idiot—he knew that the Twins were one of the more dangerous and volatile of the gods' rather erratic behavior. Apollo, especially.

Though, in retrospect, a lot of Greek divinity was generally the _worst_.

"Leto is a good friend of mine," Persephone assured him. "And she isn't a huge fan of my father, too. Besides, if we asked her before we consulted her children first, she would have taken offense to that—so, in a way, being rejected by those two is like a necessity!" It sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that, in effort to make herself feel better.

Harry, graciously, didn't mention it. "Won't the Twins get angry?"

He had to reiterate—the myths always emphasized the Twins deep and immense _love_ for their mother, Leto. The story of Niobe, and how her children were slaughtered due to her pride at birthing more children than Leto (weird flex, but okay) was a prominent example of this.

"What they won't know, won't hurt them." Persephone dismissed his concern with a flippant wave of her hand. She fidgeted with her chiton and sighed. There was a strain to her expression, a tired and irritated twitch of her mouth.

She was really serious about this whole thing. Persephone seemed determined, having been running herself ragged with the possibilities. She had a whole notebook filled with ideas and strategies, amongst doodles of flowers she was thinking of creating—Harry tilted his head and looked back at the spring, his reflection showing how tired _he_ was.

And they barely just started.

It felt like they accomplished nothing significant.

"You must be really worried about your relationship with your husband," he idly commented, letting his fingers trail across the water. His reflection rippled, and the few fish that lurked underneath zipped away. "To be willing to do all this." Especially _'defying_' fate, as Apollo seemingly shaken her up about.

Persephone glanced at him, mouth pressed into a line. "Worried isn't the word I'd use for my feelings towards my relations with my husband," she said at last, and Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. She glanced away, fiddling with the thin branch she had forced into a circlet, blooming summer flowers over it. Placing it on her head, she primly said, "hopeful. That's the word I'd use."

Ah, so she wasn't worried about their relationship. She was _hopeful_.

"You know, most people sit down and talk to their significant others about their relationship problems," Harry informed, straightening and following her as she paced out of the clearing. It was pretty easy to follow her seeing as each step she took, small little flowers were left in her wake. "Instead of embarking on a crusade against those who wronged them."

"Where's the fun in that?" Persephone snapped back, with no heat. "I'm not some little damsel in distress who will whine about her feelings to a husband who won't listen. I won't turn into _Hera_, Fate's forbid," she cried, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at how aghast she was. "No, I will show my husband I mean business by doing this for him."

"He is a god of few words," Harry agreed, though he had a feeling that he would still be a bit pissy no matter what. But Persephone knew him better, and she seemed confident—so Harry would take her word on it. "Well, I guess we better get this over with then."

Persephone tossed him a grin, and both of them stepped out into another clearing.

And once again, Harry fumbled and fell flat on his face with a grunt, with Persephone snickering slightly.

Their form of apparition was so _weird_, in comparison to Harry's own—it was like he was a child again, figuring out the Floo and Apparition. His body would be hit with a wave of dizziness and he felt out of sync with the world as he adjusted. While Harry could feel a bit of the buildup, there was no flashiness in how Persephone did it—she was in her element when it came to anything green and growing, and with it, could move around freely towards other parts of the world that involved her element.

It was as simple as just stepping forward with a flicker of godly light, and bam—she was there, along with whoever she was taking.

It had to be the benefit of being _a part_ of this world, being a living embodiment of one of its components. Whenever Harry Apparated, even in his human form, he had to use some of his phoenix fire to burn his way through.

With a little groan, he pushed himself up on his knees and hands and spat out a mouthful of sand. "Gross," Harry complained, slanting a glare at the smiling Persephone. "Sorry, I'm still not used to it," he apologized, despite not really being sorry.

"You're still young, so it's only natural," Persephone excused for him, and Harry twitched in slight annoyance. Still, he had no desire to reveal his actual age, especially _now_, so he chewed the inside of his cheek and stood up. After he brushed sand off of him, gesturing for Persephone to continue, he followed. "We are on the island Delos."

"The actual place, or the one near Greece?"

"The real place. It is a beautiful island, to be sure, not bonded to anything," Persephone replied as she led them across the sandy beach along the curve of water. The waves lapped gently at the white sand, the sun warming the air and creating a nice contrast with the cool breeze the sea brought. "It is a shame, though, that Leto is stuck here."

Harry hummed in response, not knowing what to really say to that. Persephone did mention to him that Leto was stuck on the island of Delos, though she didn't know the specifics. And thus, Harry didn't know either. Didn't want to know, really, cause it seemed really personal, and Harry had enough godly drama to worry about.

The less he knew, the less chance his weird luck had for yanking him into it.

As they rounded the curve of the beach they were one, Harry's shoes sinking into the sand, Harry braced himself for meeting yet another form of divinity. Persephone made a delighted noise as they finally spotted the person they were looking for:

Leto, Titaness of motherhood, and mother of both the twins.

The same twins he was pretty sure they couldn't trust. They now know about Persephone and Harry's connection with her, and in turn- could probably draw conclusions with his connection to Percy as well.

Harry will have to navigate his future interactions with Percy carefully.

Leto had her son's blond hair, knotted together into a delicate ladder weave down her back. The flowy white dress she was wearing swirled around her ankles from the sea breeze, as she stood idle by the sea. In reminiscent of another mother Harry knew, she was also staring out at the sea with a wistful expression, fists clenched next to her.

It seemed she was almost lost in thought.

Though, that was quickly debunked when they grew nearer. "Lady Persephone," she greeted, tossing her hair and glancing at them. Her eyes were a warm brown, like chocolate. "It's a pleasure to see you again, dear. What brings you along?" At this, she cast a wary glance at Harry, raising an eyebrow at his wave. "And who is this?"

"A lot has been happening lately, miss Leto," Persephone greeted with a hefty sigh. She turned towards Harry to slap him on the shoulder, shaking him. Harry grunted as he was moved about. "This is a phoenix, and his name is Harry. I wish to ask for some, ah—help?"

"Help," Leto mused, mouth quirking into a smile. There was no hostile air about her, a warmth emitting from her smile. "I'll be happy to help, granted I know what for."

"Do you know anything about the hunt for the Lightning Bolt?" At this question, Leto's expression flattened and she sighed. Persephone gave her a tense smile. "I asked both Apollo and Artemis, but alas, they refused."

Leto's expression didn't change, lips pursed tightly. She shook her head with a helpless little laugh. "And you think I will betray my children's loyalty? _My_ children?" Harry was tense this whole exchange, eyes darting between the two goddesses.

Was anything ever _easy_ between gods and goddesses?

There were so many undertones and meanings in their words, laced through their supposedly simple questions like thorns. It reminded Harry of when he was up to his hair in politics when he finished the war, everyone trying to get something from him.

"It isn't about betraying them, it's about protecting them," Persephone countered, lifting her chin up. This caused Leto to pause, tilting her head almost imperceptibly to the side. "I'm not doing this to betray anyone, or anything. I'm doing this to protect my husband. If it means stopping a war before one begins, then so be it."

The Titaness only hummed in response, eyes narrowing only slightly.

Leto and Persephone stared at each other, and Harry felt itchy and paranoid. His fingers twitched at his side, his magic flicking and lulling under skin, waiting. At last, the tension broke with the two divine beings bursting in quiet laughter.

"You are just as spirited as ever, Persephone," Leto sighed with fondness, reaching forward to brush a stray bang behind Persephone's ear. Persephone beamed at her, eyes crinkling. Harry let out a breath and rubbed his face. "And you, young Harry- I apologize if we frightened you."

"It's alright," Harry wanted a nap. Dealing with gods and Titaness, Greek Divinity who were the epitome of things with power who probably should not have power, were as tiring as it always was. The whole Greek pantheon was humanized in the best and worst ways in Greek mythos, and everyone loved it as a concept.

It wasn't that fun when it wasn't a concept anymore.

Especially because a lot of those myths were exaggerated to the point of comical due them being used as a lesson. Which resulted in a bunch of powerful beings striking people down with lightning and punishments that were beyond cruel, and even when they weren't being cruel intentionally-

It seemed to be their nature.

Persephone snorted, delicate and amused. "It is great to become used to it soon, young Harry; Miss Leto is one of the most mild and gentle beings I know," she nodded with assurance. "She was the only one allowed to look after me if my mother wasn't able to when I was younger."

Harry mulled this over. "So she was your babysitter?"

Leto laughed, even as Persephone flushed and huffed. "I think that is the modern term," Leto smiled. "Here, you two, come join me for a bit and we'll discuss what you wanted to discuss," she invited, turning to move along the beach. Persephone composed herself with rubbing her cheeks, and with a mild glare at Harry, who raised his hands sheepishly at her, followed.

Leto's home was located away from the shoreline, and more on solid ground. A few nymphs giggled here and there, watching from the forest and around corners; Harry pointedly ignored them. Soon, they found themselves in an open courtyard, sitting around a fine table ladled with snacks and cups that seemed too modern for their surroundings.

Cookies and tea.

Harry stared at his reflection in his teacup, seeing it wobble and reforming his tired expression. Persephone and Leto were talking, and Harry listened attentively, feeling awkward because it was obvious they shared a deep relationship.

It didn't help that they reverted back to Ancient Greek, and Harry's brain scrambled trying to decipher it. He knew Ancient Greek, of course, but for some reason, this world's Ancient Greek when spoken by the Greek Pantheon—

It was hard to understand, hard to process and to fit inside his brain.

"They did mention," Leto was musing as she traced the rim of her cup. The steam blew away and she took a cautious sip. "A little something about how their suggestion of interrogating every Olympian was turned down. It offended everyone else, despite it being such a good idea," she sniffed, eyes darkening a bit. "Especially with my darling sunshine's ability of truth."

Persephone's eyebrows furrowed, and she chewed her thumbnail. "Did they mention anyone who was seriously opposed to it?"

Leto hummed. "A few, especially lady Aphrodite. Though, I think that's because my little hunter was advocating it. Honestly, those two," she shook her head. Persephone snorted slightly, eyes still lost in thought. Harry sat silent next to them, chewing on the cookies Leto brought out.

They tasted sweet.

Merlin, this felt so surreal. Harry eyed the Titan and Goddess next to him before refocusing on the cookie he was chewing. It tasted nice, a bit crumbly, but overall nice. It didn't taste real, but like, ok. Hardly anything felt real to Harry for a while. Even when he was still in the Wizarding world, after the war.

Who would have thought he'd be sitting next to myths?

Not him.

"Ares, especially, was quite vocal about it." Leto sighed as if the mere thought of the god of war was tedious. "Though if that's simply because lady Aphrodite was opposed to it, or something else, is entirely beyond me."

"I see," Persephone mused thoughtfully. "Then I suppose I shall grace them a visit soon, just to get more information. Though it will be hard to not draw offense and suspicion for me," she muttered, as if remembering her dangerous position as queen of the underworld. Leto laughed, gentle.

"I'm sure you'll do well. You are a queen, after all," Leto soothed. She seemed to hesitate now, even as Persephone finished her tea and snacks, looking ready to leave. Harry shoved the last of the cookies into his mouth, covering his mouth with his hand at Persephone's raised eyebrow look and chewing faster.

"Thank you for your help," Persephone sighed, as Harry and Leto followed her lead. Harry trailed behind, watching the two divine beings warily and trying to ignore the curious stares from the nymphs that were peeking from the corners.

It was a short meeting, but time was of an essence. Persephone was anxious, her fingers curled primly at the edges of her chiton and the awkward hurried walk she was doing. Leto was humming a soft song under her breath as she escorted them back to where they began, a lullaby that Harry was sure he never heard before.

But for some reason, he remembered his mother and her face. An unbidden ache swelled and knotted in his chest, and Harry used his own phoenix song that always thrummed in the back of his mind to soothe him.

As they paused to give a proper goodbye, Leto finally seemed to overcome her hesitance.

Leto pressed warm hands against Persephone's face, gently tilting her face upwards to meet her eyes. Her eyes were warm, and deep, and maternal; Harry felt slightly sick at looking at the scene. He often witnessed it during the war, especially with the Weasley family. Molly Weasley, touching and hugging her children amidst the carnage, assuring herself that they were still there, staring them down as if no matter how much she looked, she couldn't get enough—

Sally often looked like that at Percy.

It was tragic. It was warm. It was something Harry never truly got to experience.

"Persephone, listen to me," Leto's words were carried by the warm and salty breeze, echoing over the beachside. The trees around them swayed, and the calm was only betrayed by the seriousness lurking on Leto's face. "Meddling in affairs such as this, especially with the Fates so close by, is dangerous."

Harry wanted to groan, and rubbed at his face tiredly. Honestly, the more they talked about the Fates and how dangerous it was—the more it lost its meaning. Though, Harry saw Persephone jerk a bit and tense, as she always did when they were brought up.

Perhaps his lax wariness towards the Fates in this world could only be chalked up to not really witnessing what they were capable of.

_Would it matter if he did know_?

Would he let that deter him from doing what was right?

Harry decided that no, it wouldn't. And Persephone obviously thought so too, as she finally spoke.

"I know," Persephone murmured carefully, not leaning in or out of Leto's grasp. She closed her eyes, dark lashes resting against dark freckled skin. When she re-opened her eyes, they were a husky blue. "I know, and I don't care. I am ready for anything that comes because I simply cannot stand still any longer, in my marriage nor my standing in this world."

Leto tilted her head, smile small and piteous. It widened into something sweeter, almost encouraging, and she sighed, stroking Persephone's cheek with her thumb. "Then you must," she agreed, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "I wish you luck, then, dear Persephone. Do not lose your way, no matter how winding it may be."

"Thank you," Persephone reached up and placed her hands over Leto's. She squeezed once, before gently lifting them from her face and stepping away. "I shall remember your kindness forever, Miss Leto."

"Thank you, Lady Leto," Harry murmured as well, causing the Titaness to give him a warm and maternal smile that had him slightly sick to his stomach. Persephone gave her an enthusiastic wave, stepping to Harry's side—Harry took that as a sign, willing phoenix flames and his magic to apparated them off of the island of Delos.

Leto's smiling face was the last thing Harry saw before the swathe of flames picked them up and left them back into that clearing from before. Harry blinked as he noticed it was now sun set, and wondered if time really did differ in mortal and godly settings.

"What was that about?" Harry couldn't help but ask. Leto was the daughter of Phoebe, the prophet at Oracle of Delphi before she passed that responsibility onto Apollo—at least, that's what he remembered from the blurry memories of passing Greek Mythology knowledge. Would Leto have inherited a gift of prophecy as well, or was that a gene that skipped over generations?

…Do gods even _have_ genes?

Huh.

Leto seemed suspiciously too knowing for Harry's liking. Dumbledore's smiling face was also very kind, his eyes very old and seared through Harry's soul; it was comforting at the time to be seen, and to be understood. Now it just left him feeling bitterly reminiscent, hurt and pitying the man who took it upon himself to wield the future in his hands and hoped that a prophecy shall be played out correctly.

No matter who was hurt or traumatized in the end, no matter if Harry himself was nothing but a child who didn't know any better. A child fated to die.

_"We cannot choose our fates, but we can choose others. Be careful in knowing that."_

Harry felt tired, and he had to blink a bit to refocus as he noticed Persephone was talking. "—honestly, though. I love her, I do, but Apollo and Artemis had to inherit their sense for dramatics from _somewhere_, right?" A pause, and Persephone wrinkled her nose in distaste as they both emerged from a nearby greenery into another clearing. "Though our shared father is more likely the source," she admitted reluctantly.

"You're also very dramatic. So is your husband. And so is the god of the sea." Harry said dryly, stifling a yawn into his hand. "Perhaps it's just a shared trait amongst you all," he suggested, and Persephone was torn between mock offense and amusement.

"What's life without a little drama?" Persephone settled for at last, as they started their way to a nearby coast. The seashell Harry was gifted worked best near water, though it could work anywhere, he was sure.

"Simpler, to be sure."

-0-0-0-

Hades, as always, looked grumpy.

The god was sat on top of his throne, slouched gracefully and staring intently at Harry. Everything about Hades was dark and all-consuming, something like brimstone fire burning in his dark, dark, _dark_ eyes. His dark hair was slightly unkempt, and he wasn't as clean shaven as he could have been with Persephone around.

It was unfair, Harry mused. To still look so godly and ethereal when it was obvious the god wasn't taking his own wellbeing into much consideration. The threat of an all-out war would keep one stressed.

"Yo," Harry waved idly at the god, after the silence grew to be too much.

The god narrowed his dark eyes, letting out an aggrieved sigh. "How is the mother?" Hades asked bluntly. Harry hummed in response, strolling over to his personal couch. He was pleasantly surprised that it was still around, seeing as that Harry was hardly in the underworld anymore.

"Still imprisoned." Harry assured. Imprisoned on a luxury island with basically anything she could ask for, hidden from both mortal and immortal eyes. Well, at least as much as Harry _could_—he did not know his limits in this world, how others viewed his magic and how this world interacted with it.

"And the sea brat?" Hades frowned.

"Still clueless," for some odd reason. Poseidon was hesitant to claim him, seeing as that would be seen as a declaration against the two gods. Though him not claiming the kid when it was so obvious that it was his son could also be insulting to everyone involved.

Harry was pretty sure everyone knew Percy was Poseidon's child.

Well—everyone but to Percy himself.

"Hm," Hades' frown deepened, scowling now. His mouth curled as he sneered at nothing, the shadows that always clung to him expanding and howling without any audible sound. "He's biding his time, I see," he seethed. Harry eyed him briefly before laying back onto his couch with a sigh.

Honestly, dealing with gods and goddesses was tiring even before the thieving. Granted, he was only dealing with Hades and Persephone most of the time—there were a few minor gods and goddesses in the underworld that sometimes visited, though they were never introduced.

Harry lowkey missed his couch.

"Lady Persephone says hi, by the way," Harry interrupted Hades' cursed mutterings to himself. This made the god pause briefly. "She wants to know how you're doing and all that. Seeing as that the delivery service is currently a no-go for you two, she sends only her best wishes—things like that."

To be a mere messenger between gods, what has Harry's life become.

"I'm surprised her mother let her see anyone outside of her, and her alone," Hades bitterly snipped, though it lacked any real heat. Harry shrugged, turning onto his side to peer at the god of the underworld. His eyes were flinty and dark, encapsulating any and all light and reflecting it back in mean gleam.

"Her mother is a bit preoccupied at the moment," Harry tasted the words, slow in his mouth. Almost a bit hesitant, because he was pretty sure Persephone wanted to keep everything just a bit hush-hush about her involvement. A dramatic reveal where she rides in on a white horse, or something like that, and presents her husband his helm back and successfully negates an upcoming war, all in the name of her love towards him.

_Merlin_, what was so wrong with just sitting down and _talking_ to someone?

"Of course she is," Hades heaved a low breath, rage simmering and stewing beneath his tone. His eyes became distant, as his shadows slunk lazily across the space and floor. "Though I'm sure that won't be the case for long, as everyone has eyes on the sea brat and for when his father is going to make his move."

Harry hummed, noncommittal. He laid on his side, head propped up on his hand, and staring at the fuming god.

"Anything else happening?" Harry prodded, after a few moments of fuming silence. Hades grunted in response, slouched in his seat. He stayed silent for a few moments more, Harry narrowing his eyes slightly at him. At last, he moved and suddenly, wine was available.

Harry even had his own, which he was—well, okay with. Wine was fine, though he had no desire to get tipsy. There was one point in his life where he drowned his sorrows in liquor and anything he could get his hands on, but all that really left him was a sour stomach and a bloody headache.

"None," Hades ground out, taking a smooth drink of his goblet. Harry followed suit, the sweet tart of the wine sticky on his tongue. "I cannot take any unnecessary action until that sea brat is claimed, nor can I be hasty in it as to not provoke any of my brothers."

"What is Mr. Z up to? Is he also waiting?" Harry wrinkled his nose, unable to outright say the god's name in fear of calling him. Names have power, and Harry had no desire to call any unnecessary attention to himself just yet. Hades seemed a bit bemused at the name, mouth flashing a mean smirk before it left just as quickly.

"I suppose he is," though the thought of sharing anything in common with his brother seemed tedious to Hades. He scowled darkly into his goblet. The shadows to clung to him sank into the floor, an endless pit of darkness that had no end.

"What is it like to have a brother like that?" Harry took a sip of his wine again, finding the taste mellow and rather pleasant after a few more sips. He briefly wondered what it would be like to live in a culture where they drank almost nothing but wine and water every day, and considered it normal. Thinking of wine made him think of the Camp Halfblood god, Dionysus.

The god of wine—who surprisingly wasn't drinking any. Persephone had snickered and confided that he was punished for going after someone he shouldn't have, and that he was on probation from it.

It was amusing as it was concerning that he was the one in charge of all the children at Camp Halfblood.

"Unbearable. Torturous. I hate every single second of it," came Hades seething response, and Harry laughed. Hades leered darkly at him, mean smile in place. "When we were younger, it wasn't so bad as he wasn't always like this. Though as we grew even more in power, it would make sense that he would change. Pride makes fools of us all, and he was already pretty foolish to begin with."

"Wasn't always like this?" Harry questioned, raising both of his eyebrows. From what he heard, Zeus was even _worse_ back in the day.

"Do not perceive me wrongly," Hades sneered, brimstone eyes dark and distant as he glared at an empty space. "My brother is a bastard, but he is for his own reasons. While he loves to have his share of _scandals_, not all of the stories about him are really about _him_."

Harry tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "And what does that mean?"

"A lot of stories were about other gods and spirits of different cultures, but when everything became Hellenistic, they were assimilated and put to our own. That means that their myths and powers were left to us." Hades explained simply, and Harry was left slightly reeling.

Other cultures? Harry knew about the great Classical Age of Greece, and the Hellenistic period that came after it. Though the thought of that period of Greece having an affect on the actual Greek pantheon didn't cross his mind until now, though it made sense in retrospect.

Gods reflected mortals, almost as much as mortals unknowingly relied on gods. They were in _America_, after all.

Hades seemingly took his stunned silence as a means to continue.

"Greek culture was once the most sought after in the entire world," Hades informed with a tilt of his head, eyes focusing on Harry. There was a bitter sweetness to his face, the limp smile and narrowed eyes. "We have conquered and became conquered, we have assimilated and become assimilated— a lot of cultures back then had their own idols, gods and goddesses, religions that withered and died when met with Greek ideals."

Harry sat mulling this over. Gods and goddesses were built and powered by belief, and the idea of other pantheons were— bemusing. The idea of Greek gods assimilating other gods and goddesses and their myths was interesting. Though the fact that their existence was willed and powered by belief, that their very personality and history could be altered and never set in stone— it all seemed very turbulent, like a castle shifting over sand.

It made Harry's skin crawl, because it reminded him too much of his days as the wizarding world's hero. The public seemed to rally for and against him at turns, the press never going halves when it came to articles about him. Despite knowing, at his core, that he was just Harry—

The thought of anyone else having control over him, and his existence, like that was scathing.

"Do gods die?" Harry found himself asking, to keep the conversation going and grasping onto thin straws. Though the question surprised even himself, feeling as of the words came through him rather from him.

Hades snorted, as if the thought was absurd. Harry watched him from underneath his eyelashes, chewing the inside of his cheek. Stirring the wine lazily in his goblet, Hades mused over his question, an incredibly indulgent smile gracing his usually humorless expression. "No, they don't die."

"Then what happens?" Where did the gods and goddesses go when people stopped believing them? When they were absorbed into other, more popular, cultures? Harry felt his head swirl at the scenarios, a possible answer to a question he's been tormenting himself with after his first life igniting an almost feverish need in him.

At this, Hades' flash of humor and indulgence faded. His dark eyes lifted from his goblet and he assessed Harry. At last, he gave a simple shrug, uncaring and perhaps a bit accepting.

"We fade."

-0-0-0-

"Any other questions?"

"...Hm. Not really. Well, actually. You know that word 'disgruntled'? It is actually the opposite of the word 'gruntled'. Why does no one ever use that one? It means pleased."

"..."

"Hey- where are you going? Were you not _gruntled_ by that question—"

"I _loathe_ you."

-0-0-0-

Harry often wondered what would become of him, once his punishment of choosing to live again ran up. Once there were no more worlds for him to travel though, no more lives for him to witness.

Would he finally be allowed to die? Would he still live, somehow, in the barren remnants of life and humanity?

Would he, one day, _fade_?

Harry stretched his fingers, peering at them. Already, he lamented, he felt dull and lifeless. This past few months of drama with the gods and goddesses were the only spark of interest he had in years, and even then, he still felt dragged down with exhaustion and stress.

It was often Harry found himself at odds with his choices, and who he was. How far he had come from the boy who lived, and chose to live again, to a man who desperately wanted for whatever was out of his reach- to rest, at last.

He thought of Percy, the young child of a prophecy orchestrated by fates and gods. The child with glittering sea-green eyes and a smile that held a reckless happiness as deep as the ocean. He thought of the mother that loved him, and the god of a father that worried.

Percy was destined to be a hero, and Harry knew that that title held nothing but misery laced underneath a tacky golden crown. This applied even doubly so to Greek heroes.

Would Percy one day come to be as tired as Harry is now?

Harry tossed and turned in his bed, in a room gifted to him for his stay here in the Underworld. It was dressed finely in gold and obsidian, with fiery red accents that Persephone insisted matched his plumage. The bed was made with soft materials, the sheets threaded to the heavens in its count, and pillows so soft that Harry was sure he could accidentally smother himself one day.

Even a bed as nice as this, with no expenses spared because Hades was the god of riches as well- Harry found no comfort in it. His exhaustion laid deeper than physical, sinking its teeth into his bones and gnawing slowly, grating at him until all he could do was breathe through it and press his burning eyes close, waiting for it all to pass.

No- Harry decided, the phoenix within him bristling and fire warmed him from under his skin. A unhidden song thrummed in his blood, soothing his anxiety, and he relaxed, assured and determined. No, he decided.

Percy would not suffer the same fate as other heroes. He would not suffer the same fate Harry had. He'll make sure of it.

Harry fell asleep, not completely content but the song that hummed in his ears distracted him, as well as the warmth sinking into his limbs. Persephone would come back soon, and with her and the answers she brings, they'll finally decide to do something.

It was weird, though- that when he dreamt, he dreamt of spinning wheels and thread, colorful yarn carefully pulled together. The clacking of knitting needles never felt so ominous.

-0-0-0-

Olympus, as always, was all hustle.

Nymphs, gods and goddesses, and other divinity, all of them were bumbling from place to place. A few of them were already sipping wine and nectar, and there was a recital somewhere near, for Persephone could hear the cheery tune. It all contrasted heavily against the dark sky that rumbled neath their feet, an oppressive atmosphere blanketing everything with a thin layer of anxiety and subtle glances over shoulders.

It felt almost as suffocating as it was in the underworld, and Persephone despised it.

Recently, all she has been doing was dropping by every once in a while to listen in on the rumors before fleeing back to the mortal world. However, this time, Persephone had a mission. Poseidon was confined to the sea with the growing tension, with more and more gods turning slightly against him and distancing themselves.

Harry, as helpful as the bird was, was still young and did not know the world as well as she. So Persephone assured him that she would be fine and to give her regards to her husband, and perhaps keep him sated for a bit as she snooped around on Olympus.

Her mission was to investigate both Ares and Aphrodite.

Whether by confronting them herself, or to see if she could sneak inside their temples. Aphrodite perhaps would not notice, and Persephone was sure she could bribe the nymphs there to be quiet. It might have been thousands of years, but Aphrodite and Persephone could have been considered friends at one point.

And hopefully the nymphs would remember that bit.

Ares, on the other hand- as the god of war, and being denser than a brick wall, he was a bit of a wild card. Either he'd be the mastermind of keeping his temple well-guarded, with secret traps and alarms- or he could be an arrogant and loudmouth tit, and have none, because it would be absurd for anyone to try and sneak into _his_ temple.

Fortunately and unfortunately, arrogance was often the foil to the gods and heroes lives and plans.

"Persephone!"

Persephone stilled before heaving a slight sigh. Turning slightly, she watched as an older goddess with hair the color of wheat hurrying over to her. Despite the bitter bile that threatened to throttle her, Persephone couldn't help but smile slightly as she neared. Irritation and affection mixed an odd combination in her stomach, even as she opened her arms for a hug.

Demeter swept her up, arms firm around her. She nuzzled the top of her head. "Persephone," she sighed lovingly, before her fingers tightened in her hair. Persephone huffed as she was firmly directed to look up at her mother's face, pouting. "Where have you been, young lady?" Demeter scolded, fingers becoming butter and stroking her hair yet again.

"Out," Persephone supplied bluntly, wincing when her mother's face darkened slightly. "Honestly, mother- I am allowed to go out, aren't I?"

"Not without permission, and certainly not without an escort," Demeter frowned, eyes severe. Persephone heaved a breath in and let it out slowly, the irritation that flared soothing into a mild ache. _Just for today, just for a few hours_, she soothed herself, as she let her mother look her over and hum. "Your mortal clothes are rather unbecoming of my daughter," the goddess said at last, giving Persephone's bare legs a pointed look.

Persephone sighed inwardly again, making a show of whipping off her jacket. In a flicker of godly light, her mortal clothes disappeared and in their place was her chiton and sandals, hair pinned up in a familiar crown of twisted yew branches and poppy flowers.

"That's my girl," Demeter cooed, stepping to her side and holding her arm in hers. "Let us spend the day together. I need to go to give a report to Zeus, and I shall be free, for a day or two at least."

Persephone felt irritated, and an anxious twist to her stomach had her pausing briefly. She felt her mother's eyes flick to her, though she always knew her mother always kept her attention on her. "Certainly," Persephone grit out, smiling politely and Demeter gifted her a warm smile.

The walk to the throne room was nothing but mounting stress, but Persephone was a queen in her own right. She knew the politics, but she also felt the stares of various others. The queen of the Underworld striding to the throne room to the king of the gods— when a war was brewing, it was a cause for attention.

Persephone held her head up, spine straight like the finest bronze and jaw set. Despite being overlooked by so many, due to her mother and husband, a chained little goddess at their beck and call— she was more than that, she knew that. Hades knew that, as well, at one point in time. And she'll make him remember that, as well as show everyone else that she was _more_.

It was when the throne room doors opened, and her mother and her grew in size that she almost stumbled. Both literally and figuratively, as she swore she heard voices murmuring in her head and the distant clack of needles hitting each other. It took all her restraint to not whip around, gaze searching.

It took her mother tightening her grip on her arm, concern and disapproval at her distant attention. Persephone graced her with a smile, keeping a low profile and gaze lowered. She knew how much her mother despised Zeus, and the throne room— it would just be better to not cause a scene, and to depart as quickly as possible.

"Demeter, and Persephone."

The words were polished bronze and deeper than thunder, and Persephone lifted her eyes to see her father, Zeus. He sat in his throne, back straight and eyes bright with electricity.

"My lord," Demeter demurred, tipping her head in courtesy. Persephone followed suit, making sure to keep watch on her father from underneath her lashes. He sat unmoving, eyes hard and face severe. "I have come to give a report of my findings in the fields near Los Angeles."

The name of the mortal city had Persephone gritting her teeth, though she made sure to keep her expression smooth and unbothered. Los Angeles, where one could access the underworld.

Of course they'd be keeping a close eye there—they'd be a fool not to. The thought of her other residence becoming nothing more than a cage, even more so than what she felt it was slowly becoming, gave her hives. She hoped Harry would have the intuition to use his powers rather than the typical way, if they were keeping such an eye there.

Persephone made sure to keep a keen ear, keeping her head tilted slightly off to the side so her gaze fell elsewhere. It was time to play her part of disinterested daughter of Demeter, with no particular will of her own outside of her mother's and husband's.

Embittered frustration crawled under her skin as she listened to mother relay the monsters and gods/goddess that came and went from the underworld, and the snide remarks she made about her husband. Zeus was quiet, contemplative.

"And how about you, Persephone?" Zeus asked, after her mother finished. Persephone tilted her head, sliding her gaze towards her father questioningly. "How have you been faring during these times?"

Persephone desperately wished he would not speak as if he cared, because she knew he didn't.

"I have been doing well, my lord, thank you for asking," Persephone smiled innocently, making sure her flower crown bloomed so that a cascade of petals fell from it. They wilted to nothingness before they hit the floor, and Persephone briefly wondered if it would be so bad to have them litter around.

But alas, that was unbecoming of the Olympus throne room.

Hades, at least, let her decorate their own.

"Is that so?" Zeus drawled, and Persephone twitched. Her ichor began to stir as it thrummed in her ears, and all of a sudden, she felt too anxious.

"My lord?" Persephone swallowed, unsure and unwilling to really ask but asking anyways.

"I see that you are leaving Olympus regularly," Zeus was still as stone on his throne. He was stiff and upright, imposing and eyes thunderous. Persephone swallowed again, past the awkward lump that appeared in her throat, feeling as if someone poured a bag of sand there.

And a small, still child-like, part of her reveled in her mother's tightening grip on her arm. As much as she despised her mother's over-protectiveness, in the face of a storm—it was assuring, despite the bitter taste crawling in her mouth.

"What are you implying, my lord?" Demeter narrowed her eyes, green as lush forests and ripe grass. So similar and so different from Harry's own surprisingly green eyes.

"Considering her connection to my _brother_," Zeus' distaste dripped from the word, and Persephone's chest bloomed with hot anger and wariness. "I would suggest keeping more of an eye on her from now on. At least, until all this is _settled_."

Persephone held no hope, but was still disappointed when Demeter relaxed a bit. "Oh, I see," her mother mused, stern disapproval melting. "We understand," and Persephone inhaled a sharp breath, because she was getting sick of being talked about as if she was not there. "With your permission, my lord, I shall take my leave from the search of the Thunderbolt to keep my daughter company from now on, then—"

It felt like bitter betrayal. It felt like a devastating realization. It felt like restless and empty days filled with leisure that meant nothing, moments that smoothed together in a dull haze and yet rubbed against each other in rising friction until something ripped and burned inside Persephone because she was—

Trapped, yet again.

Trapped on Olympus. Trapped in her mother's clutches. Trapped. Trapped-

"No!" Persephone snarled, causing everyone to rear back slightly. Zeus merely frowned. "I refuse to be punished when I have done nothing wrong!" When both her husband and her did nothing wrong. She bit back on that one though, knowing with the rising tension and thunderous look Zeus was sporting, it was near treason for her to say it.

As much as she wished to spit in his face, Persephone wasn't dumb.

"Persephone!" Demeter hissed, hand tightening on her arm. "It is safer for everyone-"

"Safe? I don't care for it!" Persephone wrenched away from her mother. Hot, almost meaningless, anger rippled through her. She sent a scathing glare at her father, who frowned harder at her. She was a queen of her own right, she was _Persephone_, goddess of spring and queen of the underworld. Who were _they_ to look down on her?

The flowers that were at her beck and call, grew from her sandals in thick vines and curled upwards. They responded to her agitation with splotchy blooms and withering petals, and Persephone couldn't help but feel a bit more agitated at seeing her own flowers respond like this.

"All of this is just absurd," Persephone seethed, pushing her mother away and her attempts at grabbing her arm again. She kept her fiery gaze on Zeus's stern eyes. "You're paranoid if you think I am after you, or conspiring with my husband to do so. All of this could have been avoided if you could listen to reason for once!"

The moment the words left, so did her anger and bravado. All that was left was the empty horror and realization of what she had done, what she had said. Persephone felt sick, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, shaking a bit.

That outburst came from nowhere, and Persephone was left reeling. Where did that come from?

"You will be punished for your insolence! Both your husband and yourself," Zeus sneered the word, and Persephone gnashed her teeth in response. "Have done well in gaining my ire. If he wishes to play games, then I won't be afraid to either. And if you wish to so brazenly involve yourself in matters that are beyond you, then I'll allow it."

It sounded like he was being generous, though Persephone knew that the only generous thing he has done for her all this time was allow her to visit Olympus as usual, for mortals needed spring and he, a bargaining chip. She was reminded that not once has anyone thought she was more than that.

_Hades_, she thought desperately, though she knew her thoughts won't reach him. Persephone would not allow it, despite desperately wanting to. If she called now, he'd throw caution to the wind and dig themselves a deeper hole than before. It was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, in this instance.

Persephone only hung her head, glaring at nothing. Her eyes burned, and she could only watch as her tears stung as they fell, splashing against the floor. She thought of Hades, of Harry, and of Poseidon- all of them were depending on her, and here she was, caught in the clutches of Olympus, about to be punished- no. No matter what, she thought furiously- she won't let them down.

"If you wish to offer your _reason_, if you wish to offer your _help_," Zeus' voice was cracking against the world, against Persephone's ears; thunder was shaking the room, and her mother was shrieking and yelling in the background. Persephone could only glare at the floor, ignoring the tremor that warbled her vision and cottoning her throat with fear, could only taste the ozone in her mouth as she heaved for air silently.

"Then you might as well give it to the ones who need it."

The words were all power and definite, thunderous and final.

And

Persephone

fell.

-0-0-0-

Artemis heard the rumors.

Well, not really rumors if it was true.

The Lady of the Underworld was punished—because of her meddling, because of her husband, because—Artemis whittled the piece of wood harder, frowning. It wasn't often she made her own arrows, having commissioned Hephaestus to supply both her and her hunters their weapons for the longest time. Not to mention _wooden_ arrowheads, as bronze was what she was used to.

Still, it was nice every once in a while to reacquaint herself with various arrowheads and points.

Most arrows she created were more true in their aim and, in her own opinion, more swift. Though she had no case study for this because to test this, she would have to use someone other than her or her hunters to use her arrows.

But the thought of having anyone else touching her own specially made arrows made her skin _crawl_.

The knife she was using to whittle her arrowhead nicked the end a bit, ruining her groove. Artemis sighed and turned a bit to glare at her brother, who was face down on _her_ bed, in _her_ tent, at _her_ camp. As if he doesn't have his own temple on Olympus, or other housing if this was all he was going to do—she watched as one of _her_ roe fawn curled up next to him, nudging him gently with its head.

Apollo barely shifted, still face down, hand glumly moving to pet the fawn idly.

Artemis turned away, back to her carving. Perhaps she could use this arrow against that damned phoenix that was the cause of all his moping. Both Persephone and the phoenix, but seeing as that Persephone was out of commission—the phoenix was what was left for Artemis to take her irritation out on.

"I'm sure mother would receive you well now, if you wish to just go on ahead," Artemis murmured, as she carefully began to carve again. The arrowhead was shaping nicely, and she was already envisioning how well it would do in hunting down monsters. "Seeing as that father put all current searches on hold for the time being," she thought of Persephone, cursed with mortality and an upcoming quest, of how she and the phoenix asked for their help, and if all this possibly could have been avoided somehow.

While she doesn't have Apollo's foresight, Artemis couldn't help but feel a bit off track as well.

She refused to admit it, though. Her brother seemed to be unsettled enough for the both of them, and Artemis was not to be reduced to mere moping because she was better than that.

"Don' wanna," Apollo whined, words muffled. "Everything just feels so _wrong_."

Artemis whittled a bit harder, frowning. "Not much we can do about it now, can we?"

"…" Apollo moved his head to stare glumly at her, lower lip jutted out and wobbling. Artemis narrowed her gaze at him, pointedly sneering slightly. Her little brother quirked a small humorless smile at her and returned to smothering his face into _her_ clean sheets, the roe fawn nuzzling closer to him to lick at his skin.

Her knife dug into the wood. "_What_." Artemis questioned, irritation and worry and concern all but smothering her from the inside out. She didn't know what _exactly_ made her brother spiral, but she was sure it was something that the phoenix said. It only spoke to her brother at the end.

The phoenix spoke. It _spoke_.

It was all too odd for her, not helped by the fact that Apollo was moping due to it.

"Is there really nothing we can do?" Apollo wondered softly, so soft that if Artemis didn't have her sharp hearing that it would have been lost in her sheets. Artemis furrowed her brows as she continued to whittle her arrowhead, which was almost done. Perhaps Zoe would receive it as a thanks for her continuous show of leadership with Artemis being gone on her search with Apollo.

Perhaps the phoenix, in its chest.

(Artemis couldn't really risk killing it outright, unsure if it would be reborn or not. Not that she particularly _cared_, but Apollo somehow did. In her opinion, they lived for thousands of years without a phoenix around, it was obvious they weren't _really_ necessary.)

Of course they couldn't do anything. Why would they _want_ to?

"What is there to do?" Artemis muttered vaguely. "As exciting as this drama is, it'll pass just like the time Aphrodite almost killed Ares for ruining her portrait. Or when Hermes misplaced his Caduceus." The only difference this time was that this drama involved the Big Three.

Artemis just wanted to return to hunting with her hunters. She longed for the freedom of pacing through the forests, the feel of nature around her. She longed for her self-made isolation that was occasionally interrupted by her twin brother.

And like she said before, this drama will pass. Especially when a goddess-turned-mortal was assigned to the case, along with a certain son of the sea that has _yet_ to be claimed. Until the quest was won or has ended, then—

The threat of war will either dissipate or proceed.

Artemis wasn't really looking forward to it, and would much prefer to stay out of it. Which is how come she is dragging Apollo with her and her hunters for the time being. She was leading them through the Appalachian Mountains, towards the east coast where they will try to gain access to the island of Delos. If she and her brother are called to fight (they will), she at least could place her hunters somewhere safe for the time being until they were necessary for the war.

All they could really do right now is savor the quiet while it lasted, and prepare for the worst.

A war was more of a hindrance than anything in a life of an immortal. Though Artemis hoped that it wouldn't come to it considering that mortals and the wilderness would no doubt be troubled by it, and with the Pan gone—

"_Should_ we do something?" Apollo sat up abruptly, disrupting the fawn. He soothed it gently, but his eyes were burning with intensity as they settled on her. "Why are we just sitting around like this, waiting for something to happen?"

Artemis had stilled, silent and tense. Apollo was her brother, her baby brother, _hers_ to protect—still, the rising tension had Artemis's ichor rising as well, anticipatory and waiting for a fight, a hunt. Though there was no danger present, Apollo's searching, almost frantic, stare promised it soon.

(Not from him, never from him.)

"It is not our problem," Artemis tasted the words. "So why should we be concerned? You told me yourself that everything is still on track." Probably not the exact way the Fates have intended, but who was she to know? The Fates were a confusing thing, their plans unbeknownst to the goddess of the hunt.

She always felt sorry for her brother, who was burdened with foresight. Glimpses and feelings of what to come, of Fates' design, and cursed to never say, to never really know how it all fits until it comes. And while she was always wary of them, she chose to put her trust in her brother and his feelings when it comes to this.

"Are we truly choosing to do nothing because we _want_ to do nothing, or because we're scared?" Apollo's expression was a crumpled mess of his own inner turmoil, lower lip jutted out and wobbling dramatically. The deep furrow between his brows, and the tense clench of his jaw belied his underlying frustration. "Is that what we are reduced to?"

Artemis wanted to laugh, because they were Olympians. They were on top of the world, despite their standing as the younger Olympians. Artemis wanted to snarl at the insinuation at her being _scared_, because she _wasn't_. She just didn't want to deal with the aftermath, and she held her mother, brother, _and_ her hunters as her responsibilities, and if anything were to happen to them, she'd—she'd—

Artemis didn't do any of the things she wanted; instead, she put aside her project, and sat still, pressing her eyes closed. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Artemis slowly expanded her senses to feel her current encampment. She felt her hunters milling about, the few on patrol, the forest around them; the moon was rising slowly and but steadily in the sky, her chariot on autopilot so she could keep an eye on Apollo.

She felt her brother.

Apollo's essence was bubbly and bright, almost too bright at times it burned. Now, it was flickering, sputtering with anxiety. Whatever that phoenix said to him obviously had shaken him down to his core, and Artemis gritted her teeth.

What was he asking?

…

What _was_ he asking?

Artemis swallowed and gave her brother a slight glance. "I don't know what you're asking, nor what you're implying. But, and only _but_, if you're asking what I think you're asking," she gritted out, the words forced and yet natural. Forced because it was absurd to even think about interfering, but also natural because if Apollo so sincerely wished, she'd rip every single star from the sky. "Do we even know what is going on?

"Fine, then let's go over what we know, then," Apollo gently pushed the doe away, spreading fingers across its head in a soothing pet as he did so. He sat across from Artemis at her table, legs crossed and fingers digging into his knees as he practically rocked back and forth in eagerness. "We had the yearly winter solstice."

Artemis barely refrained from rolling her eyes, making a pen and parchment appear to keep note of things. She idly scribbled down Apollo's sentence, before continuing with her own, "the bolt went missing."

"Father, and our two uncles fought for a long time, prolonging the meeting," Apollo nodded, leaning forward to watch her write stuff down. "It ended when all of them stormed off and suspicions began with Hades."

"Soon after, Poseidon was suspected as well when rumors of him breaking his oath resulted in a child," Artemis couldn't help the bitter taste in her mouth. The phoenix insisting that he was a child did nothing to prove his innocence, but she—could see his point. Perseus Jackson was young, 12 years of age, and in the modern era, that was still a child.

Hero or not, a child is still a child.

And Artemis, at the very least, could respect her own mother's domain of protector of the young. The thought of her disrespecting her own mother, accidental or not, was traitorous and made Artemis' stomach turn.

"We were sent on a search all around the world for it," which ended up being for nothing since that fateful night of Perseus arriving at camp. And the reappearance of a creature long thought gone, stealing the mother away in a swathe of flames and song.

"Despite uncle's child, who he still hasn't claimed, arriving at camp Halfblood, we were still instructed to keep searching for father's missing weapon." At least until a quest was issued, and then they could wipe their hands clean. But seeing as of what happened to Persephone, Artemis had decided that the search was fruitless and turned her attention to _preparing_.

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best; Artemis was not like her brother, she wasn't regularly blinded by her own arrogance and novelties of the world. Which was fine, she was her brother's other half, and she was there to make sure he didn't get too hurt in his own feelings.

"And then Lady Persephone visited with the phoenix," Apollo's fingers twitched at the mention, mouth pursing slightly. Artemis nodded, ignoring her brother's slight sulking because he always wanted a phoenix after they were all gone. No doubt he had concocted some type of fantasy where he'd create a song to bring them back, but alas—

A phoenix came back nearing the crux of change within their world.

An omen of change, good or bad, and Artemis loathed it on principle.

"The phoenix said that they were looking for the Thunderbolt and the Helm—"

The words died off sharply, her tent plunging into silence. Both of the twins stilled before jerking their heads to look at each other, both of their eyes blown wide. Apollo's sunny blue eyes bore into hers, his expression mimicking a gaping fish—there was discomfort that still twisted his expression, apprehension lurking.

But most of all, they both shared a deep and utter sense of realization:

"Uncle's Helm is missing."

* * *

final notes on the chapter:

-harry had a bit of a slip of a tongue last chapter that i'm surprised no one noticed. he mentioned hade's helm being missing as well, despite no one knowing else knowing about its theft.

-man if hades wasn't pissed before, he sure as hell will be now. And now he can't send his best monsters after the questing trio if persephone is with them. Or maybe he will and just kidnap persephone again, lmao, who knows. And remember, persephone is _technically_ a child of zeus.

-we're finally going to be getting into the more mortal side of things now next chapter at Camp Halfblood and the quest. Harry will finally be able to make more solid changes and interact with the characters we all know and love. :'D (luke i'm comin for ya soon bud)

-sometimes you act without thinking, though not without meaning; the fates had a role in this chapter.

* * *

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

i'll be **gruntled** to hear your thoughts!

See ya'!

(also yall should listen to the song **Achilles, Come Down**, by Gang of Youth. I binged that song for hours straight and it lost all meaning but I'm so in love with it, and it is what pushed me to finish this chapter, lmao)

-mms


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